Backstabbers
by MelxxWhoLuvsYa
Summary: When an uncoming music sensation is attacked, the team discover the darker side of showbiz in their hunt for the assailant.  EPISODE-FIC
1. Chapter 1

**Backstabbers: Chapter One**

**Disclaimer: **I do not own CSI or any part of the franchise. I do however own the plot of this story, all suspects and all victims...and this can of pepsi I'm drinking while writing ;)

**A/N: **Hey all! It's good to be back in Miami (the fandom that is ;) This fic is strictly episode-styled and won't involve character-drama or shipping, just forensics, victims and criminals...and Horatio's sunglasses lines ;)

Also, (seeing as this is an "episode" fic) I've thought to add a list of guest stars - (which can be found on my profile) Just a thought to help your imagination see the same scenes I'm seeing =)

Enjoy guys ;)

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><p>The silent Miami night was soothing to Chris Banks, the alleyways shadows seemed completely opposite to the world of stage lights he had just exited from.<p>

_Another good gig, the crowd was insane!_

Smiling through his mask of perspiration, droplets ran down his tan forehead, occasionally landing on long black lashes that hung like an umbrella over deep hazel eyes. His ears still rang from the joyous screaming from the fans, the massive speakers that nearly blew him off stage whenever he pulled a chord or sang into the microphone.

_Defiantly looking forward to the St. Louis jam next week!_

With his prized six string _Miley _– his dad's old band guitar – resting comfortably on his back, Chris walked down the lone alleyway, wondering which way lead back to the bus. The silence echoed his safe loneliness.

_Security cleared these backstreets before the concert, I'm fine._

Strolling past the countless dumpsters, Chris whistled merrily. His one-night gig in Miami had been a success; the club was packed solid with screaming fans just for him – he couldn't help but smile at that thought.

_If it wasn't for all the fighting, tonight would have been perfect._

Peach lips fell into a frown as Chris remembered being dragged backstage by his manager for safety, while all his bodyguards had to stop a riot from breaking out. Luckily no-one was hurt but it still put an unfortunate downer on his night.

_Hard to believe a few months ago I was playing in a garage...now I've __**fans**__!_

Though he loved them, adored the people who adored him, Chris knew walking out the front doors of the club would have been chaotic. His bodyguards seemed to have enough on their plate with the fight-starters and the alleyways were cleared before the show.

Plus...a little quite time was a welcome gift to Chris, a rare occurrence he never missed until he left Tampa for New York. Miami had a beautiful night sky, a velvet blanket of black, dotted with wonderful little stars and a glorious view of the moon.

Staring up at the sky, lost in its wonder, Chris didn't feel the steel pressed to his lower back before it was too late.

_What the-?_

Before he could react, Chris found himself on the ground, gasping out painfully as the suddenly cold night stole all his warmth. He couldn't hear a thing, not even his pained cries as his attacker kicked him over onto his back.

_What-...God! Argh! What's happening?_

He could feel the warm liquid drip from his back like a leaky tap, it travelled from his left kidney outwards like a filling pool to surround his shaking, pale hand.

Forcing his eyes out of the back of his head, Chris looked up, for a moment the stars seemed closer, lights flickering in front of his eyes like small, golden ballerinas.

_I'm...dying?_

Looking past the tiny dancers, emerald eyes penetrated the shadows and found a filmier face.

"You?" he choked out, coughs and breaths at war for his limited air supply. Before he could speak again, the face had disappeared into the Miami night.

Now he was alone. Dying at the hands of someone he thought he could trust.

_How could-...how could they?_

With his consciousness slipping away, his life escaping through his blood soaked back, Chris reached a trembling hand down through the growing crimson surrounding his torso.

His IPhone hit the ground with a crack, instantly gripped by the blood pool. A floating island of black in a sea of crimson.

Chris reached further though it pained him, pale fingers grasping the phone like a life-line. Shaking, he punched in a number, dragging the phone up and dropping it next to his pale, sweaty cheek.

_...come on...please answer..._

"911, state your emergency." A female voice spoke professionally, but to the dying young man, it was the voice of an angel.

"Hello?" the voice said, "Can you hear me? Please state your emergency."

Chris groaned in pain but forced himself to turn to the phone, his lips centimetres from the speaker.

"Hel...help...me..."

There was a brief silence before the voice spoke again. "Sir. Sir, are you hurt? Do you know where you are?"

Chris glanced around him but could only see darkness, the dancing stars had faded, the only existing light was that of his phone's cracked screen, the brightness the angel spoke through.

"Help...me..." he croaked out, feeling the dripping blood from his back count down his last minutes like a clock.

_Drip, drop, tick toc..._

"Sir? I'm sending a unit to your location, please stay on the line."

Wheezing desperately, Chris was going numb. The cold asphalt he laid on seemed warm – he was much, much _colder_. He could feel his own blood continue to pool around him, every drop taken more of his limited warmth.

His hands shook yet he didn't feel it. They were numb, _he _was completely numb. He couldn't feel anything other than the sharp tingles shooting through his body, the warm blood ooze from his back, the dry burn in his throat.

"Sir?" the voice said again," Sir, stay with me!"

He obliged though giving in was tempting. Chris could feel his strength fleeting with every drop, every bead of crimson life oozing warmth from his body.

Soon, there would be nothing left of him.

"Hel...hel...help..." he wheezed, coughs racking his entire broken body. Everything was fuzzy to him, his hearing, his sight. His chest ached with every breath he took.

But he forced himself to keep taking them.

"Sir!...Stay with me!"

_I can't..._ Chris wanted to say, but he couldn't find the strength, _I'm sorry..._

"Sir? Sir!"

_Forgive me Jason..._

He knew he was fading, his time was coming to an end; his dropping blood was slowing, the ticks of a clock were numbered. Summoning his remaining strength, he seized the phone roughly, whispering his last words to the world.

"Find...that backstabbing son...of a..."

Chris' eyes drooped close, the phone fell to the ground with a crack. Laying his head back, the young dying man smiled slightly, his chest had finally stopped hurting...because his lungs had stopped working.

The tan hand fell, hitting the ground with a dead thud.

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><p><strong>Oooh, a sinister start eh? So we have our victim and our crime...<strong>

**Next chapter we get our team ;) Stay tuned ;)**

**- Mel out ;D**


	2. Chapter 2

**Backstabbers: Chapter 2**

**Disclaimer: **I do not own CSI or any part of the franchise. I do however own the plot of this story, all suspects and all victims...and this can of pepsi I'm drinking while writing ;) (yep, _still _drinking that pepsi ;)

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><p>Blood.<p>

Even behind the tinted lens of his sunglasses, Horatio Caine still looked upon the shiny crimson pool at his feet with a grimace. Around him were reporters and curious on-lookers, all hoping to get a glance at the body, the apparently famous victim.

_That just means a longer list of suspects, _Horatio frowned. Standing up from his examination, the Lieutenant approached the tape, nearing the flashing sirens of an ambulance and his partner, Frank Tripp.

"Who is he Frank?"

Letting out a sigh, the aged officer looked over his shoulder. Shaded eyes followed as Horatio and Frank watched the paramedics desperately try to revive the victim. Turning back to the Lieutenant, Frank frowned.

"Chris Banks, some up-coming musician. Manager says anyone who's heard of him loves 'em."

Horatio was silent for a moment, standing still and tilting his head to watch Chris' struggle for air – the paramedics were mumbling furiously about stabilising him and moving to the hospital. Meeting the shocked, wide-open hazel eyes of the boy, the Lieutenant breathed deeply.

"It looks like he met one fan who begged to differ."

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><p>Squeezing his eyes shut and pinching the bridge of his nose, Ryan Wolfe sighed heavily.<p>

_Why do I get stuck with the teen girls?_

This group was defiantly the worst crowd he ever had to process in his entire career. The screaming, the crying, the yelling, the chatter – and the occasional fainter or puking girl – was all adding up to one massive headache.

_If I hear one more O-M-G I swear to God I'll...!_

Nearly growling out when several more high-pitch squeals interrupted his short meditation, Ryan stepped closer to the crowd, raising his hands up and calling his attention.

Silence.

_Finally!_

"My name is Ryan Wolfe, I'm with CSI-"

His voice was lost in the sudden up rise of complaining. Clearing his throat, Ryan took advantage of a nearby bench, using it as a platform to once again shout over the crowd.

"Hey! Hey! Hey!"

Slowly, fifth-teen tan faces turned towards him, ice cold glares delivered from thirty heavily make-up covered eyes.

It was nearly intimidating.

"My name is Ryan Wolfe," he swallowed thickly before continuing, "I'm an officer and I need everyone to give a statement, fingerprints and DNA samples to these kind officers right here."

His gesture to the line of patrol behind him was met with impatient sighs and mumbled complaints. Looking at each face for any sign of guilt or suspicion – and finding nothing other than resentment and confusion from most faces – Ryan jumped down from the bench.

In unison, members of the patrol line motioned the crowd into lines with gloved hands, ready to print, take DNA and statements. Picking up his kit, Ryan accompanied an officer to one of the lines, ready to take DNA samples.

"Next please!"

A fair-haired girl emerged from the crowd, standing timidly in front of Ryan and the other officer. Opening his kit, he watched as the patrol asked for a DNA sample and noticed what appeared to be stains covering the girl's dress.

It took him only a second to realise it was blood.

"How did this happen?" he questioned soft yet sternly, nodding to the multiple crimson stains. It appeared as if the girl had tried washing it off. The girl let out a shaky breath before continuing.

"There was a fight last night, in the concert – a lot of people start shoving... and I fell on some glass."

Frowning, Ryan took in the scrapes to the girl's hands, arms and the exposed skin of her legs and ankles. They matched her story.

"So a fight broke out in the crowd last night?"

The girl nodded, brown eyes truthful beneath blond hair. "Yeah, it was awful, they even brought it outside. I was in the bathroom trying to clean up for most of it though."

Ryan nodded to himself, taking in the new information while noticing how pale the girl looked.

"I think you need to go to hospital for those cuts, before they get infected." He told her, earning a frown. The girl checked herself over quickly before looking back up to Ryan with a self-assured smile.

"They look clean. I really just wanna go home. My mom's probably freaking out."

Ryan glanced at the wounds again, he was nearly sure he could see some glass shards – shining from the sun – in her wounds. "Trust me, I'm a clean freak and those aren't clean." He joked, but then turned serious.

"Look, this officer here can take you over, then drop you home, okay?"

The girl seemed confused, "But my prints and stuff?"

Ryan offered a reassuring smile, "You can give them later if you want, _after _you get yourself checked out." With a nod to the patrol officer, he watched her be led away.

_Maybe they're not all stuck up lil rich kids here._...

"Excuse me! I'm waiting!"

_Well that lasted long..._

Turning to a furious faced brunette, Ryan offered the cheesiest fake smile he could muster.

"I'm sorry for any inconveniences, please remain in line until called and thank you; you're all being outstanding citizens!" He said mockingly before turning and walking back towards the crime scene. His smile slipped into a smirk at the many cusses and yelling he'd left for the patrol to take care of.

_Damn Barbies' giving me a migraine!_

Hung-over, cranky, tired, sweaty, whiney, rich girls with worries that their "teen heart-throb" was dead was a bad combination in Ryan's mind. Between crying over him, puking over their drink intake and fainting the witness group had depleted from an original forty-two to a mere thirty - with only fifth-teen staying for questioning, all who claim not to have seen anything.

_A bad case to start off a bad day..._

Frowning as he ducked under the tape, Ryan tried clearing his thoughts while approaching Walter, nodding to the bigger CSI as he took photos of the blood pool.

"Hey Walter, find anything?"

Snapping two more photos before looking to his partner, Walter shook his head. "Nope, so far nothing. Get anything over at the Playboy Mansion?"

Ryan chuckled slightly, though it was a grim reminder of his headache. "No, they were either too wasted or too self-absorbed to have seen anything. Apparently they went as one big group to the gig for a birthday."

Walter wore a smirk, "Birthday party? How old are these girls?"

Walking the perimeter of the tape, Ryan shrugged, "18, maybe 19 but they're the only ones who stuck around after patrol rolled in."

Frowning Walter looked over at the crowd, "Now who runs from a Banks concert? That kid doesn't attract any bad news, most fans are squeaky clean."

Looking up from his search, forgetting the answer he had to Walter's question, Ryan chuckled again. "You're a Chris Banks fan?" his tone was sceptical. One eyebrow slid down as Walter stared at him, his lips puckering in response to the mocking.

"I listen to the radio on my way to work Wolfe, keeps me up with the latest."

Ryan couldn't hold in his laughter, earning him another look from his friend. "Walter," he said though each snicker, "your 32, single and a CSI and you think listening to a kid makes you '_hip_'?"

The dark look Walter gave Ryan was lightened with some amusement, "Hey, I can't take _'hip_' advice from a guy who digs sweater vests."

Ryan was silenced.

"Get back to work." He mumbled, turning to continue searching the perimeter.

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><p><strong>Lol, I do love my RyanWalter banter ;)**

**Also, I feel like Ryan was OOC this chapter, but after watching his lively performance in **_**Last Stand**_** and a bit in **_**Stoned Cold **_**I thought he would get a kick out of antagonising a "Barbie-like" crowd like that ;)**

**Reviews – as always – help spark an author's muse and help improve a story ;)**

**-Mel out ;D**


	3. Chapter 3

**Backstabbers: Chapter 3**

**Disclaimer: **I do not own CSI or any part of the franchise. I do however own the plot of this story, all suspects and all victims...and this can of Pepsi I'm drinking while writing ;) (I may have a _tiny _addiction to pepsi ;)

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><p>The uneven <em>crack-thud<em> of plastic to glass was only broken by frustrated sighs from the Cuban CSI. With gloved hands Eric picked up each stick of gum and examined them carefully, looking for the tiniest piece of evidence.

_Poor kid,_ he thought picking up the small PS3, broken and blood splattered, _17 years old and comatose in a hospital bed._

After examining the game console and finding nothing useful to him, Eric bagged it, waiting for the next CSI to examine it.

_I feel bad for Nat, _he thought with a chuckle, looking over the multiple blood splatters on each item and knowing she'd have to check each one – just in case. With no leading evidence so far, the team had to be thorough with what they had.

_Which is blood and a hospitalized kid, _he calculated with a frown. Standing still, leaning against the glass with his head bowed, Eric stared at each personal item of Chris Banks, hoping an answer would jump out at him.

"Eric."

Looking up, the Cuban gave a small nod to his brother-in-law, welcoming him in to the Analyse Lab. The Lieutenant entered, removing his glasses and waiting for Eric to speak.

"I sent the clothes over to Trace," he took a breath, his tone portraying his disappointment. "-but I got nothing from his personal items."

Horatio tilted his head, looking over the broken phone, chewing gum, IPod, game set and keys, gazing at the crimson splatters with a burrowed brow.

"That Eric, is because the attacker didn't touch them."

Frowning deeply as he understood Horatio's lead, Eric spoke his thoughts. "So if it wasn't robbery, then why attack the kid?"

Hands sliding to his hips, resting over his holster and shades, Horatio looked the Cuban in the eye, determination burning in his own.

"That...is what I'm going to find out Eric."

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><p>Gerry Cole wasn't a patient man, especially with the law. Sitting in a MDPD interview, waiting on a "Lieutenant Caine" to question him was irritating. Passing the time by looking around his surroundings or collecting his thoughts, Gerry wondered when the Lieutenant would show up.<p>

_Come on, come on!_ He thought over and over, _I've got a client to protect!_

Cracking his knuckles against the glass table, tensing his toned, muscled biceps, Gerry looked up at the sound of a door opening.

_Finally!_

Silently hazel eyes examined the red-haired Lieutenant, noticing the blank expression and shades covering a lined face and eyes, his hands resting on his hips, flashing a side arm. As a bodyguard, Gerry was a natural at reading body language and knew the Lieutenant wasn't threatening, but rather held the neutral suspicion every law-enforcer had.

It still didn't make him respect the man anymore than he did; after all, it was his fault that Gerry was stuck in a police station and not protectively outside Chris' room.

"Mr. Cole", the Lieutenant said slowly, a brass tone accompanying a strong voice. "You are in charge of Chris Banks' protection, correct?"

Gerry nodded silently, "Chief of Security for Mr. Banks, yes." Asserting a pride and dominance in his stature.

The Lieutenant was quiet, removing his sun glasses to stare at Gerry with piercing blue eyes. "So you would know if Chris had any enemies." It wasn't a question, but Gerry knew he was supposed to answer.

"Kids' a superstar, course he gets stalkers, competition, haters, threats." He stopped leaning forward in his chair with a small, confident smile. "Me and my men protect him from them."

The Lieutenant didn't seem convinced. "And yet, none of you were there when he was stabbed within an inch of his life." His tone deepened during the last part of his accusation.

Gerry lost his smile, anger taking its place in a trembling frown.

"Are you saying _I _had something to do with this?"

Lowering his brow while still staring at the bodyguard, the Lieutenant kept his blank expression. "I'm saying how it looks, Mr. Cole."

Frustrated, Gerry took a deep breath, looking down to his lap before mustering the courage to look back into those interrogating blue eyes of the Lieutenant.

"That concert got real crazy real quick man. Shoving, fighting, the barricade between the stage and fans was stampeded. Me and my men had to jump in before some got killed!"

The Lieutenant still didn't seem convinced. "That _someone_ was nearly Chris, the boy you were meant to protect." He answered sharply, a glare shining in his blue eyes focused on Gerry, who stared back angrily.

"Hey man! Chris wasn't meant to leave till I told him so! It took all of my guys to hold back the crowd and off the stage so they _couldn't _get at him. I'm telling you man, they were savages in there!"

A sharp tap of knuckles against the glass door interrupted the interview. Frowning, Gerry watched as a balding suited man gestured the Lieutenant to come out, a file in his hands.

_Oh no, _Gerry thought, _no way! No more delays!_

"Well Lieutenant Caine," he started, being as civil as he could, "I can see you are busy, so how about we end this little conversation now."

For a moment, Gerry was sure the red head didn't hear him, silence was the Lieutenant's only response. Then, turning away from the door, steely blue eyes stared the bodyguard right back into his seat.

"Mr. Cole, sit down."

It wasn't a suggestion, it was an order. Furiously glaring at the Lieutenant for only a second, Gerry bowed under the strong demeanour and watched with a huff as the red head left the room, talking to the balding cop outside.

"What have you got Frank?" was the last thing Gerry heard before the door slid shut.

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><p>"Horatio, I've been going through these witness testimonies and cameras, there's a few suspicious looking crowders that were shoving towards the stage and that's what kicked off the stampede."<p>

Closing the file he was holding between himself and Horatio, Frank looked up to the red head, seeing a calculating look storm in his eyes.

"And the bodyguard says a few were trying to get at the boy on stage."

Frowning slightly, Frank spoke his thoughts. "So what you reckon?"

Holding out his hand and taking the file from Frank, Horatio flicked to the photos taking from many of the different cameras collected, seeing the group of teens shoving towards the stage that Frank was referring to. Slowly, he spoke.

"That our attacker...was in the crowd."

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><p><strong>Oooh so we many have a lead eh? Any suspects so far? I doubt it, but there's still plenty more to come ;)<strong>

**Also, I notice it seems to be mainly the guys running this case (don't worry, Calleigh and Natalia are in this story ;) and I apologise, but it is difficult to fit the whole team onto a case like this. But, as I have a few more episode-type fics in the wings, different characters will get more or less time each one, like real Miami episodes ;)**

**I hope that's okay =)**

**Stay turned for more crime-solving drama, surprising plot twists and of course, H's one liners ;)**

**-Mel out ;D**


	4. Chapter 4

**Backstabbers: Chapter 4**

**Disclaimer: **I do not own CSI or any part of the franchise. I do however own the plot of this story, all suspects and all victims...and this can of Pepsi I'm drinking while writing ;) (Okay so my addictions getting worse, but hey it is a muse fuse ;)

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><p>Sighing heavily to himself, Walter Simmons entered the Trace lab, pulling a pair of gloves onto his hands. Letting the rubber snap onto his wrists and retract, he focused on the three large bags waiting for him on the table.<p>

Even from a distance, he could still see the crimson patches on each article of clothing.

_Damn,_ even mentally, Walter was speechless at the amount of blood, especially since Chris survived. Opening each bag and un-folding the shirt, jeans and shoes that Chris was wearing the night he was attacked, the CSI frowned deeply.

_Damn!_

There was a lot more blood than Walter had anticipated.

Opening one of the drawers, he took out a magnifying lens, slowly running up and then back down the seam of the jeans, trying not to stare at the large crimson stain on the back and sides.

"Hey Walter."

The cheerful voice was a welcome break to his dreary task. Looking up, he offered a small smile to Calleigh as she walked into the lab, wearing her ballistics lab coat.

"Hey Cal, bored with the case?" he asked, earning a playful frown.

"Well with no weapons for me to test...yeah, it's kinda slow."

Chuckling while turning back to the evidence, Walter continued his trail of searching. "Maybe you should help BV in DNA, last I saw she was arguing with the centrifuge."

Both CSIs laughed for a moment, Calleigh watching him sigh as no evidence was found on the jeans. There was a short break in their conversation as Walter moved onto Chris' shoes.

Once his concentration was refocused, Calleigh picked up where Walter had left off.

"Did Natalia find anything with the samples Eric sent over?" She quipped, curious about the case despite not being a part of the lab work. The small frown that fell on Walter's lips wasn't a good sign to her.

"Other than all seventy-two samples were Banks'?" -he raised an eyebrow, a small chuckle escaping him. - "No, she didn't. I'm hoping to find a fingernail or something to cheer her up."

Calleigh smirked, arching a golden eyebrow. "Fingernail? Well that sure s the way to a woman's heart."

He smiled back, "Sure is. Wanna help me hunt?" he asked, nodding to the shirt. Calleigh's eyes lit up eagerly at the promise of finally doing something worthwhile for the case.

"I'd love to." She answered, already snapping on a pair of gloves to match her lab coat. Standing by Walter's side, she pulled a magnifier out of the same drawer that he did and mimicked his examine-technique.

After a few minutes of silent searching, Calleigh noticed an odd detail. Noticing her backtrack over a tear on the back of Chris' shirt, Walter stopped his own searching.

"Find something?"

Placing the magnifying lens down, Calleigh moved towards the equipment drawer, pulling out a Q-tip.

"I think so, there's a shiny residue around the entrance point, might be from the knife." Her tone was curious, wondering what the substance could be. Picking up a glass slide, she carefully transferred the residue and covered it with another slide.

Holding out his hand and accepting the slide, Walter smiled, moving towards the microscope. "Thank you."

Looking down the eyepiece at the substance, he frowned. "I think I can see something in the residue." Adjusting the zoom, Walter's brow rose.

"It looks like...skin cells...," speaking to himself, Walter's frown lowered in slight confusion. After thinking it over, he looked to Calleigh with an answer.

"Hair gel. I'll need a sample to be sure but-" his smile turned from a case-helping joy to a joking smirk. Calleigh noticed the change, not understanding what was funny.

"What is it?" she asked lightly.

Scraping a piece of the substance off the slide and into a small test-tube, Walter held it up and quirked an eyebrow.

"Looks like I found BV a present." He chuckled, "Skin cells."

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><p>Andy Mason, like any teenager, immediately fell silent after answering his hotel door to two cops. The tall, large CSI before him had said they were investigating Chris Banks' attack.<p>

His best friend's attack.

"Andy?" the blond CSI's voice pulled him from his thoughts, "Chris is okay, but we're wondering if there was anyone – you can think of – who'd want to hurt him."

Silently, Andy shook his head, thinking her question over and over but not finding anything. He saw the taller cop sigh – he'd obviously been hoping for a different answer. So was Andy.

"Anyone at all Andy," the blond said, "Think for me."

_I'm trying, _he wanted to answer, but instead obeyed, going back through the past 24 hours, trying to find an answer.

_Wait a minute..._

"There was this one guy..." he started; face scrunching as he tried to remember the unknown face, "He was arguing with Chris _right _before the concert. The guy wasn't from the band or a groupie – I'd never seen him before that."

"Do you remember anything about this guy, anything we can use?"

Andy frowned, brow burrowing as he tried remembering back – finding it difficult to wade through the drunken memories of his best friend's concert.

"No I can't remember... I was kinda distracted at the time, only caught a glimpse of them. Didn't even hear what it was about." He admitted, earning a suspicious frown from the taller cop.

"So your buddy's attacked and you just _happen _to see a guy arguing with him?" Walter questioned disbelievingly, "Sounds like an alibi for the real attacker."

Catching the hidden accusation, Andy glared at the tan cop, "No way I did this man, Chris is my best friend. We're tight!"

Noticing the sudden defensiveness, Calleigh spoke questioningly, "When you're famous, it's easy to mistake gold diggers for friends."

Andy shook his head furiously, "No no no, you got that all wrong. Me and Chris go back to the garage days, kids with a band in the basement type-thing. That's why I'm his only true friend; we were buds before he got famous."

Still not convinced of Andy's innocence, Walter frowned. "You two were in a band?"

Andy nodded once, sharply. "That's right." His tone was offended.

Knowing what Walter was implying, Calleigh knew the next question to ask. "Were you jealous when Chris traded up and left you and the band behind?"

Anger mixed with insult on Andy's porcelain face, "Hell no! I wouldn't want to be Chris' back up; we're friends – that would have messed it up. We chill, we got each other's back."

Crossing his arms, Walter sighed. "Well Chris got a knife in his back, and we have DNA evidence tying you to it. So do you wanna tell me where you were when that happened?"

Rubbing the back of his neck, pushing past jet black hair spiked with gel and scratching his scalp, Andy spoke through embarrassed, red cheeks.

"I was with Cynthia...she's my girl, we argued just before the concert and made up after – that's when I saw Chris arguing with that guy. Chris left and me and Cynthia-...well we made up...nicely."

Both CSI's quirked an eyebrow, but Walter was first to speak. "Excuse me?"

Andy gave a small wink, "You know when you make up...it's hot, right dog?"

Walter didn't know whether to laugh or let his jaw drop, _How old are these kids anyways?_

Shaking his head, he refocused his thoughts to the case. "So she'll give the same story as you?"

Andy shrugged, "She should, cause it's the truth."

Calleigh smirked, but it wasn't friendly – it was a warning. "Well that's good, because the truths going to come out, one way or another."

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><p><strong>Hmmm, so even more suspects. Can our team solve the case? We'll see in good time my friends ;)<strong>

**Also, yay Calleigh appeared and got a full chapter ;) (Don't worry, Nat will appear too – it just worked out for me when dividing up time for everyone over a number of episode-type fics and the guys happen to get more time this fic, but maybe less in others)**

**I hope that's okay guys, though you all seem to be enjoying it so far ;) Thank you all for reading (and reviewing too if you do/did ;)**

**-Mel out ;D**


	5. Chapter 5

**Backstabbers: Chapter 5**

**Disclaimer: **I do not own CSI or any part of the franchise. I do however own the plot of this story, all suspects and all victims...and this can of Pepsi I'm drinking while writing. (Okay, I gotta problem – that's the first step eh? ;) – I should go reward myself...with a Pepsi :D

**A/N:** For _Green_, here's a Nat-chapter ;) Sorry for not showing her sooner (that's very strange of me :S) but she does have a strong presence in the case :) You'll see that in future chapters :)

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><p>Pushing the solid oak door of the "Clarence suite" open with gloved fingertips, Eric Delko quickly noticed there was no damage to the keyhole, or signs of break in.<p>

_With guards on the door I doubt anyone broke in,_ he frowned.

"Wow," Natalia breathed by his side, looking over the plentiful food trays on the glass dining table. Walking over, photographing and then picking up a container, she held it up for Eric to see. "Caviar at seventeen?"

Eric's frown deepened, "Maybe not, hotel staff said Chris liked the plain food." He nodded to the half eaten pizza on the next plate, "Looks like the manager is cashing in on his client though."

Natalia grimaced, "That could be his motive or his alibi."

Eric nodded, "Guess that depends if the 'stabbed boy' story sells." His tone held distain, something he noticed – judging by Natalia's expression – she shared.

"Sadly, I think it will."

Huffing deeply after scanning the entire suite's deluxe ground floor, Eric approached the winding steel stairs. It seemed the "Clarence suite" was more of a mansion than a hotel room.

_Kid's living large, _he thought, then cringed slightly at the irony.

_Hopefully he lives to enjoy it._

Approaching the kitchen area - camera in hand – Natalia searched carefully for any suspicious detail. Though they hadn't expected to find anything - seeing as Chris hadn't been in the hotel since yesterday morning – she was still disappointed when nothing showed up.

_Ooh, _she smirked to herself after opening a cabinet under the sink and finding a safe.

_This looks good._

"Hey Eric," she called through the suite, hearing his footsteps on the steel staircase descending. Pulling up her camera, she snapped a few photos of the safe and keypad as he approached.

"What you find?"

Her smirk grew as she glanced up, "Jackpot. Get cracking fingerprint man."

Eric chuckled, squatting down and opening his kit. Mechanically, he pulled out a duster and powder jar - it was as filmier as breathing for him to dust the key pad, almost like his second nature.

_Got it_, he smirked to himself, then up to Natalia. He watched her sigh deeply – as though in regret – he quirked an eyebrow.

"And to think," she breathed lowly, teasing, "that talents going to waste."

He chuckled, looking back at the key pad. "I know, should go into safecracking huh?"

Natalia laughed, walking across the kitchen to a closed door, "You and Ryan, partners in crime."

Eric frowned to himself, looking over his shoulder to her. "Wolfe can crack a safe?"

She nodded, brow lowering over her surprised gaze. "He never told you?" taking Eric's silent shrug as a "no", Natalia opened the door, finding a small office. Her surprised expression only grew.

_Wow,_ she thought, looking at the desk, chair and shelves. _This place has everything._

Setting her camera down on the large, black cherry wood desk, Natalia looked at her surroundings. The office's walls were a musky green, cream carpet softly gave way under her heels. A large window gave view to the Miami coast, framed by chocolate brown curtains to match mahogany shelves.

Her lips pursed, _not exactly attractive, but not criminal._

Seeing cobwebs and dust collected on the shelves, and no stains on carpet or wall, Natalia wondered if Chris's party even used this room. Shrugging, she stepped around the desk, rummaging through junk clattered drawers.

_Never hurt to be thorough, _she mused.

Digging through the used pens and rolls of tape, Natalia eyed the glow of red paper beneath the clutter. Pulling it out, she discovered it was a note – made of cut out newspaper articles.

_Wow, _she thought, eyes widening as she read the paper.

_**I**_** kNOw **_**Y**_**OUr DirTy**_** L**_**iTT**_**L**_**e S**_**eCreT**_

_**- PaY ME oR pAy **_**4 **_**It**_

"Eric," she called out quickly, pacing from the room and meeting him in the kitchen. "Look at this," she commented, handing him the sheet and watching his brow sink.

"A threat letter," he noted, frowning in thought. "What could the "Dirty Little Secret" be?"

Thinking deeply, Natalia looked at the note, trying to find a clue as to what the sender meant.

_Even though he's famous, Chris is a kid,_ she calculated through every possibly secret a teenager could have. Before she could speak, Eric had come to the same conclusion.

"You think the kid's a cheater? Jealous ex, lot of motive."

Natalia nodded, "But didn't he break up with his girlfriend over a month ago? I couldn't pick up a magazine without seeing it for days."

Eric chuckled, "I wouldn't know, I stick to the sports sheets." Earning a smirk from his partner, he sighed deeply.

"Well whatever it is got Chris stabbed, do you think the sender could have left anything behind on this note?"

Natalia frowned, looking at how carefully the letter had been made. "I don't know, it's possible, but whoever did this did it with care."

Eric's breathed laugh held no humour as he bagged the letter, "So I take that as a 'no'." Natalia's response was a silent shrug as she passed him, back towards her own kit left by the open safe.

"Hey," she chuckled, "You got it open?"

Looking over his shoulder, Eric smiled. "Yeah, not much inside. Some cash and a few passports. Not much to go on."

The smirk Natalia held confused him. "Maybe not," she thought aloud, looking at the bagged passports. He watched as she opened them up, curious about the lead she might have.

"Okay so this one belongs to Chris." She said, placing it to the side and moving to the next.

"The manager." She announced, moving to the next. With a quirked brow, Eric approached.

"What exactly are you looking for here?"

Natalia smiled to herself after searching the last three passports. "Okay so we have Chris, his manager, the head bodyguard and the best friend – all accounted for here." She pointed out four passports then held up the fifth for Eric to read.

"Who's Jason Grey?" he asked, flicking through the small booklet, finding the name along with a photo of a brown eyed, spiky brown haired boy with pale skin.

She smiled, her eyes hinting. "Exactly what I was wondering."

* * *

><p><strong>Oh, so the team has a lead now =) A lot of suspects so far, any guesses about the killer? <strong>

**Some suspense next chapter, team-pairing Ryan/Natalia =)**

**Feedback –as always – is appreciated :)**

**- Mel out ;D**


	6. Chapter 6

**Backstabbers: Chapter 6**

**Disclaimer: **I do not own CSI or any part of the franchise. I do however own the plot of this story, all suspects and all victims...and this can of Pepsi I'm drinking while writing. (My Pepsi addiction is rivalling my Miami addiction! – that's a problem!)

* * *

><p>Brow curved with intense concentration, Ryan focused on the multiple audio and video files that zoomed across the screen at a touch of his fingertips. At the edge of the digital pad, his right hand tapped impatiently against the side of the desk.<p>

The case was wide open; a vicious dangerous criminal was still out on the streets.

Nothing bothered Ryan Wolfe more than a criminal out on the streets, ready to strike again.

_Not for long_, he told himself, looking through the endless supply of footage courtesy of the confiscated cameras and phones from the concert. Over the crackling and shouts from the videos, Ryan heard glass swinging behind him.

"Hey Ryan," he heard Natalia's voice from the threshold of the AV lab. She appeared at his side seconds later, looking up at the screen. "Is this from the concert?"

He nodded, eyes still focused on the moving files. "Yeah, everything seems normal," he paused, pulling up a video and hitting play. "But check this out."

Curious, Natalia watched closely as Ryan zoomed in on a section of the crowd. A group of teen boys were shoving people left and right, roughly progressing to the stage.

"And then all hell breaks loose."

A glance at Ryan told her that he wasn't kidding.

Turning back to the screen, Natalia noticed several other crowd members react to the shoving boys, soon after fists began to fly. She watched as those around the fighting were affected – either by joining in or trying to run away, causing more shoving among the crowd.

_This can't end well_, she frowned.

"Now here the security jump in," Ryan's voice broke her from her thoughts, pointing out the multiple black-shirted men diving into the center of the action. Out of the corner of her eye, Natalia saw a jerking movement on the stage.

"Woah, hold on, go back a bit."

Ryan tipped his fingertips against the keypad, rewinding the footage. Following Natalia's gaze, he zoomed in on the stage.

"The manager," she breathed with confusion, "He_ physically _pulled Chris off the stage."

Frowning for a moment in thought, Ryan shrugged slightly. "Probably thought it was too dangerous for him up there."

Tilting her head, Natalia focused on Chris. _Something's off,_ she thought,_ Chris doesn't want to be taken off._

"What's he looking at?" she asked, turning to Ryan and seeing his questioning expression. "Chris," she said, looking to the screen, "He's looking at something off camera."

Ryan frowned, "If it's off camera then we can't see it." A disappointed silence filled the lab, both CSI's thinking over their lost lead.

_Hold on,_ a thought came to Ryan, a determined frown taking hold of his features. Furiously he began typing into the computer.

Feeling Natalia's eyes watch him with interest, Ryan began to explain himself.

"You and Eric found a kid's passport, someone the manager and the bodyguard didn't even know about, right?"

She nodded, still curious as how Ryan tied her lead into Chris' odd behaviour.

"And throughout the entire concert, Chris kept looking off stage, at first I thought it was a twitch or something, but then I saw this guy."

Swiftly scrolling through photo-stills, Ryan stopped on one and zoomed in to a section backstage.

Natalia nearly gasped, "That's my guy, Jason Grey."

Ryan nodded, a small proud grin bubbling on his lips for making the discovery. "Now, fast-forward to Chris being dragged off stage," he paused, the answer was obviously clear.

"Jason's gone from his spot." Natalia noted. Ryan pulled up several more photos, pointing out Jason's movement in each of them as he gravitated away from the stage.

"Chris is following his every step," Natalia frowned, "Like he's afraid of this guy."

Ryan nodded, he had come to the same conclusion. "And he's nowhere to be seen once Chris disappears." He added, pausing the footage.

"So he had opportunity." Natalia finished.

Ryan nodded again, and then turned to face her, one elbow resting on the edge of the desk. "Have you managed to track him down yet?"

Natalia frowned, "Not yet. His passport was at the hotel but staff has no record of him, the only one who seems to know him was Chris."

Ryan sighed silently; their lead had just run cold, _so much for breaking the case Wolfe._

He glanced to Natalia and noticed a calculating look in her eye, for a moment he waited, hoping the crease in her forehead and slight frown might lead to the small smirk she always got whenever an idea popped to mind.

When it appeared, he couldn't help but grin too, _I'm all ears._

"Jason's a teenager, right." It wasn't a question, but Ryan still nodded, curious to hear the rest of her theory. "Now, what does every teenager have?"

Ryan chuckled to himself, "Nowadays? A bad attitude and tanning obsession?"

After earning a chuckle, Ryan watched Natalia type a few details into the digital keypad, still not catching onto her thought.

Still seeing his awaiting expression, she sighed. "A cell phone, Ryan." She said, rolling her eyes.

"Oh," he breathed, "Well that was my next guess." The computer search came up with a result – a number.

"And now we trace it." Natalia chimed; both CSI's gaze held a keen interest as the map zoomed in on Florida.

"At least he's in Miami," she commented, watching the map close in on their suspect.

"Yeah," Ryan breathed, his voice fading as the trace map closed in Miami Dade General Hospital. Natalia wore the same shocked expression as him.

"He's at the hospital where Chris is." Ryan stated, pulling out his cell, quickly scrolling through his contacts for the hospital security.

"He has an opportunity to finish what he started!" Natalia gasped. Quickly she pulled the lab door open, Ryan following her in pursuit to the elevator. After barking commands to the security he snapped his phone shut. The doors opened just as they arrived.

"There's no sign of him or Chris." Ryan told her as they entered the elevator. Natalia shook her head, pressing the button for ground floor. Seconds later the doors were open.

"We better call H," Ryan mentioned, approaching the front desk to quickly sign out a Hummer, but found Natalia already had the keys and wearing a small smirk.

"You call, I drive."

* * *

><p><strong>Oooooh, so Chris and the mysterious Jason have disappeared! One of many plot twists to come ;)<strong>

**And the team pairing of next chapter will be...Ryan/Natalia again, as of course I'll be showing the hospital scene ;)**

**And also, I just can't get enough of those two ;)**

**Reviews are always greatly appreciated =)**

**-Mel out ;D**


	7. Chapter 7

**Backstabbers: Chapter 7**

**Disclaimer: **I do not own CSI or any part of the franchise. I do however own the plot of this story, all suspects and all victims...and this empty can of Pepsi I was drinking while writing.

**A/N: **Wow! Where'd everybody go? :( Was last chapter bad? I know so far the pace has been slow, but there's alot of aspects of this case that need to be explained and if rushed - would make a mess of this fic. Don't worry though, as you'll see below - there'll be more action and intensity to come. :)

* * *

><p>Breathing heavily from his jog through the many corridors of Miami Dade General, Ryan Wolfe stopped near the receptionist desk, seeing his partner approach.<p>

"Security's notified," Natalia stated quickly, slightly out of breath from her separate search. "Chris wasn't expected to wake up anytime soon, so the bodyguard took a coffee break."

Ryan frowned deeply, pacing in line with Natalia up the corridor towards Chris' room. "So there's a long gap where Jason could have snuck in and wheeled the bed out."

Brow burrowing, Natalia glanced at him, and then looked around. "Seeing some teenage kid wheeling a bed around would be suspicious..." carefully she eyed each of the staff that past.

"...he's probably in disguise."

Ryan's eyes widened as he too scanned each male nurse and doctors face that past him. Frowning, he leaned closer to Natalia, subtly whispering in case their suspect was watching.

"Take the right wing, I'll go left. Meet back here in 20, okay?"

Natalia nodded, both turning to part. Quickly looking back, Ryan stopped.

"Hey."

Natalia turned to him.

"Yeah?"

He offered a small smile, "Be careful."

Rolling her eyes while smirking, Natalia sighed. "You too."

* * *

><p>Leaving to the left, Ryan entered through two swinging doors, walking along doorways with one hand on his holster. Carefully, he peered through the glass of each door, pausing for a moment to scan for Jason and Chris.<p>

Out of the corner of his eye, a dark blur darted away from Ryan. Snapping his head in the direction, eyes widening with the chase, he took off.

"STOP!"

Sprinting fast, Ryan chased the scrubs-wearing boy, diving out of obstacles thrown by the runner. Stumbling over the wheel of a medical tray, Ryan fell to his knees, sliding onto his side.

Jumping to his feet, Ryan ran to the end of the corner, lookin up and down the interconnecting corridors. The suspect was nowhere in sight down either hallway. Breathing heavily, he growled, slamming his palm into the wall with frustration.

"Damn it!"

Walking back to Chris' room – where he had agreed to meet Natalia – Ryan pulled out his cell, quickly punching in a number and listening to the dial tone with a tight jaw.

_Damn it I nearly had him!_

"Ryan?"

Quickly pacing down the corridor, he spoke hastily.

"Natalia, he's here in the ICU, we need a lock-down on the area before he can escape."

"Okay I'm on it."

Just before he could hang up, Ryan heard a small gasp, questionably he placed the cell back to his ear.

"Nat?"

"Ryan, I've a visual on Jason, east ward, storage supply!"

Eyes widening, Ryan began to jog hastily, his grip tightening on his cell.

"Did you notify security?"

"They're on the way..." pausing, Natalia crept closer to the storage room, eyes narrowing as she peered through the narrow sheet of glass on the door.

"Ryan. He's got a hostage in there!"

Increasing his pace, Ryan rounded a corner sharply, nearing the meet-up point he had agreed with Natalia, seeing security and patrol men hurrying up the corridor to his right. He hoped the storage supply was close.

"Okay Nat, stay th-"

Pulling the cell phone from his ear and staring at the screen, Ryan cussed under his breath.

_Call disconnected._

Not waiting for the security to reach him, Ryan looked up at the plentiful of signs, quickly finding the directions to the storage supply.

Un-clipping the safety harness on his holster and sliding his sidearm into his steady hands, Ryan powerfully sprinted towards the storage room.

* * *

><p>"How is he?"<p>

Swallowing thickly past the tears, trainee nurse Amy Brown struggled to answer her captor. Though he was roughly the same age as her – if only a few years younger – Amy was terrified.

Mainly because of the gun he held to the back of her neck.

"Well?" he growled, growing impatient, "How. Is. He? Tell me!"

Shakily, Amy looked over the source of her captor's agitation. Though sickly pale and connected to many life-saving tubes, wires and monitors, the young twenty-one year old nurse could easily recognise Chris Banks.

However her kidnapper was defiantly a nobody, she'd never seen him before. No magazine ever portrayed the pale skinned, brown eyed, brown haired teen that held her at gun-point.

_Why is he doing this? _Amy gulped as she answered herself, _because he's a crazy person! He'll kill you!_

"Hey! I asked you a question!"

Feeling that keeping her captor any longer could be fatal, Amy spoke timidly. "I don't know, I-I-I only started my nurse's training a week ago!"

Hearing the sharp, annoyed intake of breath behind her, Amy winced, fearing her confession could only anger the man even further. Hearing the click of a gun hammer, she began whimpering.

"Please!" she begged shamelessly, "Please! His vitals are okay, monitors steady! That's all I can tell, but... Please! He's fine, just let me go please!"

Glancing away from his hostage, the gunman looked at the bed, brown eyes watering while viewing the pale, almost porcelain face of Chris Banks.

_I'm so sorry,_ he thought, _for everything, this is all my fault!_

Taking a shuddering breath, his grip on the gun tightened, yet his eyes remained glued to Chris, growing softer with every blink.

_Please wake up Chris! Please, I never meant to hurt you! Please don't die!_

_Please..._

"Please..." Amy's voice broke through the gunman's agonised thoughts, "Please...just let me go, I won't tell anyone what happened..."

Slipping a finger across the trigger, his hand shaking slightly, Jason tore his teary eyes away from the comatose pale face; coldly, they re-focused on the nurse before him.

"No...you won't."

His finger tightened on the trigger.

* * *

><p>Slowly creeping towards the storage supply, gun in hand, Natalia Boa Vista let out a shaky silent breath. Her eyes were sharply focused through the thin sheet of glass on the door, her only way of assessing what was happening on the other side.<p>

The only way of seeing what she was about to get herself into.

Having seen Jason take a nurse into the room with him, and then a heated argument where the suspect's voice was threatening, Natalia had quickly ended her call to Ryan, rushing up the corridor to stand next to the door, ready to open.

Though she'd hoped Ryan or backup would arrive, Natalia knew she couldn't wait forever, not with a hostage's life on the line on the other side, as well as Chris'.

Taking a breath to steady herself and tightening her grip on her gun, Natalia slowly reached her hand to the door, hiding from the glass. Frowning, she noticed the curtain had been pulled across, blocking her from seeing within.

_Ryan get here soon,_ Natalia thought as she pulled the handle, throwing the door open.

* * *

><p><strong>Oh ho! What has Natalia gotten herself into? :O Ryan better get there quick eh? ;)<strong>

**Btw: This chapter seemed a bit RaiNy to me (lol which I doubt you'll mind) but I wasn't aiming for romantic feelings, just the caring friendship shown between Ryan and Natalia (no pairings this story ;)**

**Next chapter will be Ryan/Natalia again as I bet you're all wondering what happens next ;)**

**-Mel out ;D**


	8. Chapter 8

**Backstabbers: Chapter 8**

**Disclaimer: **I do not own CSI or any part of the franchise. I do however own the plot of this story, all suspects and all victims...and this empty can of Pepsi I was drinking while writing.

* * *

><p>Feeling the eerily calm silence that accompanied death, Amy Brown began to sob quietly, tears trickling down her cheeks as she waited for the bullet to fire, to kill her.<p>

_This isn't right, _her mind reasoned, _this stuff only happens in movies, he can't kill me..._

_I don't want to die!_

"Please don't kill me!" She felt no shame in begging, not with her life on the line. "Please, please I-I-I can just go, I won't tell anyone..._please_!"

Shaking, Jason glanced between the begging nurse and Chris, eyes narrowing in an attempt to stem the tears. "No one can separate us...not again... no one, not you!"

Taking a deep breath, Jason slowly squeezed the trigger.

Shutting her eyes tightly, Amy missed Jason's hesitation, his teary brown eyes noticing movement at the door way. Breath hitching, he quickly grabbed Amy's shoulder, spinning her into a tight grip and aiming at the door.

"Make a sound and I'll kill you." He hissed in her ear. Gulping silently, Amy stared wide-eyed at the door, praying for whatever poor soul was about to walk through it.

* * *

><p><em>What...the...<em>

The sharp, slow, rhythmic beeping was the first thing that entered Chris Banks' dreary mind. Muffled voices soon followed, only adding to his confusion.

_Where...am I?_

Though it took nearly all his strength, Chris opened one eye, only managing a few seconds of sight. Breathing deeply, he tried again.

_Where...is this?_

Under the shadow of half closed eyes, Chris tried to clear his vision. After softly blinking – fighting the urge to leave them shut – the blurriness faded, finally allowing him to see.

_Who's...someone's here?_

Though he wanted to move, to speak, Chris found his body in mutiny against his will. Trapped within his own skin, he began looking around, trying to find someone to help.

The room was dim; the white bed he lay on was surrounded by high steel shelves. The multiple bottles and jars glowed slightly, frightening him.

_Aliens? Was I...abducted or something?_

The thought disappeared into Chris' drowsy mind with a rush of shock. Though barely open, hazel eyes focused solely on the pale, filmier face at his bedside.

_Jason?_

_...Jason!_

If he could move, Chris knew his jaw would have dropped. Recovering from the shock, he renewed his attempts to move with a burning determination.

_I have to get out of here!_

Held prisoner within his lifeless body, Chris could only watch, waiting for the gun-wielding boy to finally notice him. He was surprised no-one had heard his heart trying to escape from his chest or his rapid, shallow breathing.

_Somebody help!_

Panic shot through his nerves like a bolt of lightning, a rush of numbness soon following. The dark waves of slumber were trying to pull him under.

_Someone...anyone..._

Unable to fight any longer, Chris felt himself slowly slip in unconsciousness. It seemed ironic that as he was pulled into the darkness, a light shined through the dim room.

Slipping under the current, delving into the shadows, Chris prayed whoever opened that door was there to help him.

* * *

><p>"Stop!"<p>

Nearly jumping, Natalia Boa Vista froze on the spot, gun aimed carefully at Jason. In a split second, her trained eyes took in Chris' motionless body, the nurse sobbing quietly, held tightly by a frightened young boy.

Breaking the thick silence, Jason spoke in one low, frantic breath.

"What-what are you doing here? Drop the gun!"

_Don't panic him,_ Natalia thought, _stall till backup arrives..._

"Jason," she spoke his name cautiously, "Jason I'm with the MDPD ... put the gun down and let her go."

The pale teen shook his head furiously, "No, no way. You'll shoot me!"

Keeping a cool demeanour, Natalia cringed secretly. _Even if there was a clean shot...please don't let it come to that._

"Jason, I won't shoot," she promised, "But only if you put the gun down."

The gun suddenly felt like a dead weight in her hand, as cold as a corpse's skin. Tightening her grip to combat her sweaty palms and eyes narrowing, Natalia knew if it came down to it; she'd have to shoot Jason.

_A kid... God please let me talk him out of this!_

"Jason," she tried again, "If you put the gun down, we can talk this out," she paused, stressing her next breath to him. "_No one _gets hurt."

With trembling breaths, Jason looked her in the eye, seeing no deception or trickery in the chocolate gaze. If anything he saw a concerned pleading, one that caused a feeling of trust form in his fragile mind.

"Okay..." he breathed to himself, "Okay." Slowly, he pulled his gun over Amy's shoulder and brought it to his side, keeping it in hand. Flexing his arm, he kept a tight hold on the nurse, using her as a human shield.

_Thank God,_ Natalia released a breath she hadn't realised she'd been holding. Remaining tense, she waited, hoping Jason would let his hostage go.

A long second passed, neither side dared to move, waiting for the other to break the silence.

"I put my gun down...you put down yours!" Jason growled impatiently. Natalia noticed his arm twitch nervously, the gun tightening in his grip.

_Keep him calm, _she told herself, _you need to get the nurse out of harm's way._

Hesitating slightly, Natalia slowly pulled her outstretched arms back, lowering her firearm to her waist but keeping a tight hold.

_Stay alert...Ryan will be here soon..._

_I hope..._

"Okay Jason," she breathed softly, "The guns are gone," she soothed, while carefully assessing him. Speaking softly, Natalia let the silence hang heavily after each word she spoke, hoping they would truly reach Jason's fragile mind.

"Now let her go."

Watching Jason carefully, waiting for him to snap or strike, Natalia noticed how he looked to Chris for a long moment. She had barely focused on the comatose boy since she had entered, only checking that he was okay.

_But Jason..._ she frowned with confusion while slyly pulling her gun up from her waist. The warm caring she saw in the young boy's stare puzzled her.

_...He's obsessed with him._

Slowly, Jason allowed his arm to fall limp to his side. A shuddering, relieved breath escaped Amy. Hastily she scurried for the door, too quick for either side to stop her.

The second Jason raised his gun, trying to stop the nurse's escape, Natalia quickly lifted her own. Seeing this out of the corner of his eye, Jason turned his aim on her.

_Crap..._, was the only thought that ran through Natalia's mind.

_Stand-off..._

* * *

><p><strong>Oh boy :0 Another cliff-like ending! I'm a devil for those ;)<strong>

**For those reading & reviewing, I thank you all sincerely. Criticism is a key part of a story so thank you for taking the short time to review.**

**Sorry for the slow-pace of the story ; things will pick up soon, I promise :)**

**-Mel out ;D**


	9. Chapter 9

**Backstabbers: Chapter 9**

**Disclaimer: **I do not own CSI or any part of the franchise. I do however own the plot of this story, all suspects and all victims...and this newly bought can of Pepsi I was drinking while writing.

**A/N: **_Oh my, it's been so long since an update that this story has cobwebs! I am so sorry, but an unexpected family matter arose and I dare say, life is only now returning to normal. I must admit, this fanfic's importance was pushed to the back of my mind until today, but that still doesn't excuse my impolite absence. Apologies dear readers, I hope this chapter was worth the wait :)  
><em>

* * *

><p>"Jason...put down the gun..."<p>

The officer spoke strongly to him, but the young man could see everything but _strength _in the brown eyes gazing at him over a loaded gun. He could see pleading, a soft yet stressed request that he lowered his weapon.

He didn't know how, but Jason knew what the CSI was thinking.

_Please don't make me kill you._

He breathed shakily, _don't make me kill you Miss...I don't want to hurt anyone anymore._

"Jason..." her voice was concerned, as though she actually cared about him.

_Why would she?_ A taunt echoed through his mind, _you don't know her – she's trying to take Chris away from you!_

_She'll hurt him..._

Jason's eyes widened, his grip on his gun tightening. He needed to figure out who this cop was – if she was a threat to him or Chris.

_I have to protect him._

"Who are you?" Natalia was stunned – firstly that Jason had spoken, then by his question.

_I already told him..._she thought carefully, _if he's forgetting things like that, he could be under the influence of something..._

Natalia tensed, knowing the situation just got even more dangerous for her.

"Jason..." she tried again, "My names Natalia...I'm with the MDPD..." seeing his constant quick glances, she took a breath.

"We want to _help_ Chris." She stressed the word 'help', noticing how Jason lowered the gun ever so slightly, his eyes widening with shock.

"You do?" she nodded, relief flooding through both of them as Jason seemed to relax. "I'm protecting him. You won't hurt him will you?"

Though confused, Natalia shook her head. _If he's the attacker, why does he care about Chris' safety?_

"Jason, I promise Chris won't be harmed." She said sincerely, taking a breath to steady her voice.

"Now will you put down the gun for me?" she asked softly, "Please?"

Though he longed to do as she asked, Jason shook his head, a piercing stare directed from his eyes to the doorway.

"What if they come back?"

Glancing at the door then back to Jason, Natalia frowned with puzzlement. "Who Jason? Who's coming back?"

Swallowing thickly, the young man looked to her with teary eyes. "_Them_." He whispered, "The people who want to hurt Chris. The people who put him here in the first place."

Natalia's eyes widened, _it wasn't Jason? Then who..._

"Jason, who hurt Chris? Who did this?"

Eyes tight to hold back the tears, Jason shook his head, "I don't know." He sniffed deeply, lifting his gaze to look her in the eye.

"It was because of his secret..." he explained regretfully, "Because of _me_." Fighting the sobs that so desperately wanted to rack through him, Jason saw confusion and remembrance clashing in the CSI's eyes.

_She knows?_ He realised with horror, _she knows it's all my fault! That's why she's here to arrest me!_

_Do I deserve it?_ He questioned himself, _Should I explain myself to her?_

Nodding to himself, Jason pulled himself from his thoughts just in time to hear the CSI – Natalia, he corrected himself – ask the question he wanted her to.

"Jason, why do you think that?"

The young man smirked slightly, before explaining himself in gross detail. Though he noticed the CSI's eyes grow wider and wider with surprise and shock, Jason was proud of he was doing, the weight was finally of his chest – he could be free now, with Chris.

_Now she knows, now it's done._

Seeing Jason raise his gun-wielding hand, Natalia felt a surge of panic and adrenaline rush through as she realised what he was about to do.

"Jason, no!"

* * *

><p><strong>Wow, another cliffy :O I hope you liked it ;)<strong>

**A/N: **_**As I explained in the A/N above – life has become pretty hectic for me and I cannot say when I can update again. For this I apologise dear readers.**_

_**I also apologise for the shortness of this chapter – again chaos is inflicting my writing ability.**_

**-Mel out ;D**


	10. Chapter 10

**Backstabbers: Chapter 10**

**Disclaimer: **Still own the same stuff...which sadly isn't Miami :(

**A/N: **_I'd just like to take a moment to thank everyone who's been following and supporting this story. We're nearing the end soon so I'd like everyone to know they are very much appreciated. _

_Also thank you everyone for your understanding and patience with me. I know my updating speed is near-disgraceful but you've all been so accepting and kind. Thank you all sincerely._

_Now, on with the story :) I bet you've all been dying to read what happens next ;)_

* * *

><p>Overwhelmed with shock, Amy Brown felt like a prisoner in her own body. She <em>knew <em>she should be running for her life, getting as far away from that gun-wielding boy as she could. She _knew _she should be calling the cops – trying to get help for the CSI who saved her life, the one she left behind...

But she just _couldn't _move.

_I-I-I need to help her, she saved me; I can't leave her with that maniac!_

As much as she wanted them to, Amy's knees didn't move from her chest. Her body remained in its fetal position sitting against the lonely corridor wall despite her wishes.

She was paralysed with fear.

_Oh God,_ she wailed internally, a quiet sob escaping her lips. _He was going to kill me!_

With shaking hands, Amy weakly wiped the tears that rolled down her cheeks, all the while knowing she couldn't stop the constant flow of guilt from escaping her eyes.

_I shouldn't have ran, he's gonna kill that cop!_

Rocking back and forth, resting her forehead against her knees while wrapping her arms around her legs. Frightened sobs escaped her. Amy didn't even try to control her shaking, her mind was too frozen to try command her trembling limbs.

_Someone please..._ she glanced up and down the lone corridor, biting her lip as a shuddering sob racked through her.

_Someone please help!_

* * *

><p>Running as fast as his feet would carry, Ryan Wolfe tore through Miami Dade General like a tornado. The store room – according to the signs at reception – was only around two more corners.<p>

_Hang in there Nat,_ he begged silently, rounding a corner with a fiery determination.

Eyes widening, Ryan took in the sobbing nurse curled up and shaking. Slowing himself, he approached carefully, kneeling down while scanning her quickly for any injuries.

Thankful when he found none, Ryan spoke with care.

"Ma'am, are you okay?"

Snapping out of her teary trance, the nurse looked to him, panic melting into relief as she noticed his badge.

"Please-" he heard her whisper timidly, "_Please help me."_

Brow narrowing with concern, Ryan looked up and down the corridor, searching for a danger that was not there.

"I'm with the MDPD, I'm an officer," he explained, quickly earning the nurse's trust. "What happened?"

The young nurse swallowed thickly, looking up into his eyes. "He-he-he had a gun! He was going to kill me! If she didn't help me I would be...be..._dead_."

Breathing short, erratic gasps, the nurse missed the look of horror dawn across Ryan's features or his sudden ridged posture. Through watery and red-rimmed eyes, Amy Brown heard herself.

_Thank God!_

The wall of brown shirted hospital security was like a divine intervention to the young nurse.

Recovering from his panicked thoughts, Ryan signalled one of the officers with a stiff nod, indicating Amy. Once the young man approached, Ryan began speaking rapidly, hasty to go find Natalia.

"I need you to take her back down to reception and call Lieutenant Caine-"

The sharp echo of a gunshot cut Ryan short, his eyes shooting wide as he leapt to his feet and raced past the mass of security guards to the storage room.

_Oh God,_ he gasped slightly at the door, inhaling the sickly filmier mix of metallic gun-powder and coppery blood.

With a nod to the officer on the opposite side of the door, Ryan entered, horrified at when he saw a body lying lifelessly on the ground.

* * *

><p>The silence was killing him.<p>

_Say something,_ he told himself, _we can't just stand here forever..._

Sighing deeply, Ryan pushed himself away from the wall where he had been leaning, un-folding his arms from his broad chest and approached the waiting room seats.

She glanced up at him, though immediately dropped her gaze to the floor, falling back into her silent trance.

_Crap, _he thought, he knew he had to say something, but he couldn't think of anything that could make Natalia feel better.

"Hey," Ryan breathed softly, only receiving a small grimace in return. Sighing, he slipped into the seat next to her, resting his forearms on his knees and leaning forward.

Natalia still wouldn't meet his gaze.

"The, eh, doctor said Chris' state was depleting by being kept in that room." He hoped to see a reaction, wishing he could help ease her stiff, tense, cast-down stare.

"They said if you hadn't of found him, he'd have no chance." Still earning nothing in response, Ryan placed a soothing hand in Natalia's and gave it a reassuring squeeze.

He smiled slightly when he felt a small grasp in return, thanking him.

"You saved his life Nat." He said sincerely, focusing closely for any change in her eyes or face. If anything, Natalia's gaze seemed to grow sadder.

"By shooting an eighteen-year-old kid..."

She had spoken so low and so quietly that at first, Ryan thought he didn't hear right. However, when Natalia had finally looked up into his eyes, the misery and guilt was clear.

He opened his mouth to speak, but it quickly slipped into a grimace as he tried to come up with something comforting to say.

As he came up short Ryan could only look into Natalia's eyes, knowing that her distant gaze was reliving the shootout.

* * *

><p><strong>Awwww, I can't help my RaiN moments ;) They just rock so much on the show, I gotta write them :)<strong>

**Also, next chapter will open with Natalia's flashback, just for those curious about what happened ;)**

**A/N #2: **_**I've just noticed this particular scene (all within the hospital) has lasted 4 chapters now. I am sorry if that seems like a slow pace, but at this moment in time there is no clear future for this story.  
>I know the direction I want to go, but the best road for you all is still unclear :(<strong>_

_**With little time to consider which path to take, I'm sorry for updates being scattered and short, I promise that will change :)**_

_**Till next time :)**_

**- Mel out ;D**


	11. Chapter 11

**Backstabbers: Chapter 11**

**Disclaimer: **Other than for the plot and OCs I own nothing included in this story, and do not profit from CSI: Miami or CBS.

**A/N 1# : **_As forgiving as you dear readers are, I still feel terrible for these long periods of time between chapters. In previous stories, I prided myself on updating daily (or within a few days of a previous post). Life is still pretty hectic and with a personal matter affecting me dearly, it's getting harder and harder to write._

_I will however, not abandon this story. This I promise you. Right now, I can only ask for your patience and forgiveness (which you've all been so kindly giving me) while I try to make some matters right and hopefully my writing pattern will return to normal soon._

**A/N 2#: **_As stated at the end of the previous chapter, the following scene will be a flashback to the shooting between Natalia and Jason. This should answer some questions for you all._

_Enjoy!_

* * *

><p>Shock. Surprise. Confusion.<p>

Natalia didn't know which to feel first, each emotion crashing together like battling waves as Jason's voice ghosted through her mind, an echo floating above the watery conflict.

_Did he just say...But that means..._

Natalia's realisation was cut short by the shaky movement of Jason's arm, pulling the gun with a fiery look in his eye, burning hot tears flooding from his eyes.

_This is it_, he thought, steadying his arm as he took aim. _No turning back._

The sudden-narrowing of chocolate brown eyes that matched his own was saddening to Jason. He watched carefully as the CSI pointed her gun at him.

Until she realised his intentions.

Eyes wide, Natalia gasped as the young man placed his gun to his temple.

"Jason, no!"

Taking a deep breath and closing his eyes, he mumbled an apology; sorry that he'd ever gotten her involved.

_I have to be with Chris,_ he let out a stuttering breath, _I have to protect him._

Though it had only been a few seconds, it seemed like an eternity for Jason. Thinking of the pale angelic face of Chris Banks being lively and happy, the young man hoped that image would follow him into heaven. Scrunching his eyes, he prepared to pull the trigger.

The gunshot was louder and much sooner than he had expected.

Watching the teen crumble to the ground in a heap over the nozzle of her gun, Natalia's disbelieving eyes widened. Quickly rushing to his side, she nudged the pistol from his hand while holstering her own.

Then, she examined her "handy-work"; One clean bullet hole to the left shoulder.

Jason gasped in pain on the storage room floor, confusion closely following as he wondered why he was alive. Warm hands pushed down on his shoulder, causing another wave of agony to rush through him.

He cried out, earning a frown from the CSI applying pressure to his wound. "It hurts! It hurts!"

Biting the bottom of her lip as she felt Jason's blood stain her hands, Natalia cringed at his pained yelps.

"I know Jason..." she didn't know what else to say, the shock had left her mind blank. On instinct she kept him still, hoping her shot hadn't done any damage.

She knew she should have been relieved when the door flew open, given way to Ryan and a squad of patrol.

She knew as they pulled Jason up from floor and took him to be care for that he'd be okay. That Chris was safe now and would be finally looked after.

Yet as she felt Ryan guide her out of the room and listening to his concerned voice asking her if she was alright, Natalia couldn't shake the sudden weight of guilt that swept over her.

_But if I didn't...he would have shot himself..._

As she sat down in the waiting room, her body on auto-pilot as she heard Ryan and a doctor talk about "shock", Natalia felt the weight grow heavier, crushing her attempts at reason.

Chocolate eyes fell into a downcast gaze, numbly she noticed the drying blood that coated her hands. The glowing crimson only served as a painful reminder, throwing her into a dark pool of guilt and misery. Over the waters, she heard Jason's pained cries.

_Oh God what have I done!_

* * *

><p>"Natalia...Natalia look at me..."<p>

Pulled from her thoughts, she looked to him, her eyes afresh with tears. Though the guilt tugged at her concentration, Natalia found some comfort in the concern and empathy in Ryan's hazel stare.

"You can't let this get to you." Though he spoke softly, Ryan kept his strength, making sure he kept her eye as he tried to reassure her.

"Listen, Jason will be fine. That bullet didn't do any damage – it was a clean shot."

Seeing her head shake sadly, Ryan frowned.

"A lucky shot..." she mumbled, her gaze returning to the ground.

Falling silent, Ryan thought carefully. He knew, probably better than most, that guilt was a cop's worst enemy. Guilt often kept him up at night, whether it was after a bad case, killing a suspect or a personal blunder.

But Natalia was always there when he needed someone, offering a listening ear and comforting shoulder to lean on and like many times before, Ryan was going to return the favour.

"Natalia..." he tried strongly, meeting no response. "Natalia..." he tried again to no avail.

Sighing, he gave her hand a small squeeze, yet spoke softly.

"Talia?"

A small feeling of relief washed over him as Natalia finally returned her eyes to his, though it was instantly crushed as he noticed how lost her gaze still looked.

"Why did you do it? What made you pull the trigger in there?"

Worrying he had been too blunt, Ryan was glad to see her take a deep breath, thinking of an answer for him. After a short silence, Natalia spoke lowly.

"I don't know," she admitted. "It was on instinct."

Nodding, Ryan thought carefully before speaking. Making sure he could phrase how he felt correctly.

"I know why you did." He said truthfully, earning a questioning arched eyebrow. It made him smile softly before taking a breath to speak again.

"You wanted to save Jason, right?"

A small nod was his only response.

"Well," Ryan shifted in his chair, keeping a hold of her hand. "Nat you said it yourself, it was instinct. You're a naturally caring person; your instinct was driving you to do the only thing you could to save that kid."

Natalia glanced away shortly, leaving Ryan worried slightly. When she looked back up, he saw gratitude swimming in the deep brown stare, only a ghost of guilt remained in her eyes.

"Thank you." She whispered, giving a watery smile. Ryan returned one, glad he'd gotten through to her.

"Anytime." He breathed his voice thick with sincerity. Standing up from his chair, he gently pulled her hand up. Following his lead, Natalia stood, feeling Ryan give her hand one last squeeze before letting go.

"H wants us back at the lab, a patrol car will stay with Jason and then bring him over after, we should get going."

Turning to lead the way out, Ryan felt a sudden grasp on his bicep. He looked back, seeing something in Natalia's eyes that made him tense. He knew the look well.

_She's remembering something_...

"Ryan...He said something in there, Jason..."

Noticing her stop, he waited. Watching carefully, Ryan couldn't shake the feeling that Natalia was filtering the events in her mind, not wanting him to know.

One brow slowly lowered, "What did he say?"

He waited again, wondering if he could read Natalia too well or he was misinterpreting her shock as deception.

"He said he's innocent..." she whispered slowly, frowning deeply.

"...and I think I believe him."

* * *

><p><strong>So there you have it :) Natalia didn't kill Jason (I couldn't have that guilt bringing her down – Ryan wouldn't let me ;)<strong>

**Speaking of which, I couldn't help but involve some RaiNess this chapter ;) They may not be a couple in this fic but no-one can deny the connection those two have ;)**

**Yet Natalia may be keeping a secret :O Something that Jason told her – a key factor to the case I might add ;) We'll find it out next chapter, don't worry ;)**

**Stay tuned and thank you for all the support guys – it truly means a lot :)**

**-Mel out ;D**


	12. Chapter 12

**Backstabbers: Chapter 12**

**Disclaimer: **Although I'm swimming the Atlantic at the moment to save Natalia and Horatio – I still don't own CSI: Miami nor do I profit from CBS.

**A/N: **Okay so this chapter is an important one! A major (and shocking) plot-twist which will explain a lot about this story. I know that the last few chapters have been mainly focused on Ryan and Natalia, so I've made sure to include the rest of the team in the coming instalments ;)

_Flash backs and thoughts are in italics._

* * *

><p>Protectiveness.<p>

Inside every living being lies a protective feeling; the urge to help and save those close to them. Protectiveness is often seen among families, friends, lovers and members of law enforcement. Blood, love and cop teams cause the defensiveness to emerge.

But when your team _was_ your family, when the one's you loved were the ones you shed blood with; the protectiveness was overwhelming.

And Horatio Caine felt that more than anyone.

With a heavy heart, the Lieutenant stood silently outside a Miami Dade Interrogation Room, waiting for the CSI inside to take notice and join him.

By his side, Calleigh Duquesne sighed sadly. "Horatio, you and I both know this is unfair."

Lowering his head, the Lieutenant knew his agreement couldn't change a thing. "It's been ordered, Calleigh." She could hear the distain in Horatio's dark tone, knowing he hated the current situation as much as she did.

"So there's nothing we can do to help?"

He watched carefully as within the room, his CSI stood and approached the door.

"We can solve this case."

Calleigh nodded wordlessly, offering a small smile as her friend stopped before them.

"H, what's going on?" Natalia asked, noticing how oddly quite the duo were. The Lieutenant's expression was like stone; completely un-readable to her. The Southern CSI was almost as stolidly cold, though there was sympathy in her emerald gaze.

It worried her.

"Ms. Boa Vista," Horatio started carefully, gaining her full attention. He took a steadying silent breath before continuing.

"IA is requesting a meeting with you."

In a flash, he noticed the worry spread from his CSI's eyes across her features. She knew instantly what he meant; she was in trouble.

"Because of the shooting?" she asked, trying to make her voice sound stronger than she felt. Horatio noticed the forced tone, offering a supportive stare.

Calleigh nodded, empathy showing through her eyes. "Don't worry, it's just protocol. They just need to follow up because Jason's a minor."

"And I'll be there with you." Horatio finished, watching his CSI think cautiously. Turning, he indicated for her to lead the way.

"But the interview..." Natalia glanced back into the room, eyeing the sling-wearing boy carefully.

Stepping forward slightly, Calleigh captured the anxious CSI's attention. "I got it." She offered with a reassuring smile.

Giving her friend a thankful nod, Natalia turned to the awaiting Horatio. Taking a deep breath, she walked, knowing the Lieutenant was right next to her.

For once, his presence wasn't comforting. Even Horatio's protective streak couldn't help her now.

* * *

><p><em>Oh God, Oh God, Oh GOD!<em>

With one hand nervously tapping against the steel interrogation table – the other resting within a sling – Jason Grey felt his life crashing down all around him.

He was causing grief for a CSI who just wanted to help him.

He nearly killed an innocent nurse.

He failed to end his suffering.

He failed to protect Chris.

_Oh God Chris! _He wailed within his mind, _please I'm so sorry! Please be okay!_

The swinging of glass caught the young man's attention, blissfully distracting him from his tortured thoughts. Deep brown eyes watched with caution as the blond officer sat across from him.

_Wait, _he thought frantically_, where'd the other one go? N-N-Natalia?_

"Is she in trouble?" he nodded towards the glass door, noticing the swift glance from the CSI ended with a saddened sigh.

Leaning forward, Jason caught her attention again.

"Because of _me?_" he whispered.

_I'm poison, poison to everyone! Why can't I just die!_

"She'll be fine." Calleigh stated, carefully watching the unstable boy. No matter how much she pitied him, the knowledge that the teen in front of her wielded a gun at her friend only hours ago was un-nerving.

And set the Southern CSI on edge.

Breathing deeply, Calleigh turned her attention back to the case. "Jason...I'm here to talk about what you said at the hospital.

Bloodshot brown eyes shot wide, "She told you?"

Calleigh nodded, watching as Jason's breathing grew rapid. She quickly moved to calm him.

"Jason it's okay, it's perfectly normal-"

His hysteric head shaking cut her off, "No it's not!" he bellowed, eyes teary.

"No one would understand!" he continued, his voice dying down to a sob-like sigh. "We'd be labelled freaks! We'd be dirty and wrong!"

Calleigh waited, silently listening to the troubled teen's confession of his deepest secret.

"Even at the start...me...Chris..._We_ both knew this would have to be _our _secret..."

Calleigh nodded slowly, trying to show the boy compassion. "You and Chris were...together?" she pressed carefully, watching Jason nod slowly.

"Ever since freshmen year..."

* * *

><p>"<em>Hey Choir Boy!"<em>

_"Look at the little Gleek Freak!"_

"_Homo got a solo?"_

_Looking up from his Calculus homework due for next period, Jason Grey frowned. The new kid – obvious target for the class jerks – had made the unknowing mistake of joining the school's choir._

'_Shame he's getting bullied...' Jason thought, 'He's got a nice voice...'_

_The sudden throw of a water balloon at the quiet young boy startled Jason. He could only watch as the projectile hit its target; the back of the new kid's head._

_Over the cheers and jeers of his classmates, Jason heard the head jerk, Kyle, approach the new kid – pulling him up from his chair by his soaking wet shirt collar._

"_Hey homo-" the tall, muscular jock sneered, "-I'm talking to you."_

_Hands curling into fists, Jason found himself standing up from his chair. He'd never spoken to Kyle – or anyone from his class – nor did he know the new kid at all..._

_Yet he couldn't help but feel protective for the poor, tan-skinned teenager._

_Shaking his head, Jason approached strongly, clamping a vice-like hand down on Kyle's broad shoulder._

_Every head in the room snapped towards him, yet Jason only noticed the fearful hazel eyes that melted into relieve as they found him._

_Breathless for a moment, he turned his attention to the fuming – partially stinking – jock whose sneer was now directed at him._

'_Great! What the hell have I gotten myself into?'_

_Jason wasn't given the chance to answer himself, Kyle was already demanding one._

"_Hey asshole, I said what's your problem?" _

_Scoffing, Jason glared at the taller, stronger teen. "You're the asshole here jockstrap," he glanced at the new kid, "now let him go."_

_Soaking silk slipped through meaty hands, the new kid quickly disappeared behind him, watching with awe as a stranger stuck up for him._

"_You wanna go tough guy?" Kyle growled, squaring up to him. Chuckling involuntarily to hide his fear, Jason stood his ground. _

_He saw the fist flying towards his left eye a second before the painful impact._

* * *

><p>Despite having winced at the memory, Jason wore a watery smile on his pale, tear-stained cheeks. He raised a finger and gingerly pointed to his eye; though long gone, the dark-rimming bruise that once surrounded his left eye felt numbly fresh.<p>

"After the nurse let me out...Chris was right there." he breathed softly, "Waiting for me..."

* * *

><p><em>Pressing the ice-pack gingerly to his closed eye, Jason sighed tiredly as he walked out of the nurse's office. Keeping his gaze low, he was thankful the corridor was empty.<em>

_Or at least he thought it was..._

"_Jason?"_

_Stopping to look over his shoulder for the source of the timid voice, Jason raised an eyebrow in surprise._

"_What are you doing here?" he asked lowly, glancing at his watch. "School's been out for 2 hours."_

_Slowly, the new kid approached him, rubbing the back of his neck. "I...the nurse said I had to wait outside if I wanted to see you..."_

_Jason's brow knitted, his good eye showing confusion. "You wanted to see me?"_

_Though his sight was still fuzzy, Jason thought he saw embarrassment in the new kid's downcast gaze._

"_Eh...yeah..." his voice growing shyer than before, "I-I wanted to thank you."_

"_Oh," Jason gave a small shrug, "-it was nothing, don't worry 'bout it."_

_Rubbing his neck again, the new kid held out a book. "Erm, you left your Cal book in class..."_

_Taking the book back with his free hand, Jason smiled slightly, "Thanks."_

"_Don't worry 'bout it." _

_Nodding, Jason turned his back on the new kid, about to leave when he heard a nervous sigh._

"_Eh, Jason?"_

_Spinning around, Jason sighed quietly. "Yeah new-...I mean..." he trailed off as he realised he didn't even know the new kid's name._

"_Chris," the tan, smaller teen smiled. "Em, I noticed in your notes that you're struggling with Calculus...I'm good at it, if you ever need help."_

_Nodding, Jason was glad of the offer, he really was struggling with Calculus class._

"_Eh, yeah. Thanks...Chris."_

_He earned another bright smile from the shorter boy. "Erm, I'm going to the library right now actually...Erm, wanna come with?"_

_Readjusting the bag on his shoulder, Jason nodded, breathing softly. "Yeah, ...Sure."_

_Watching as Chris smiled widely, walking closely by his side. Though he didn't know why, Jason found himself grinning broadly too._

_It was a nice feeling._

* * *

><p>Sighing as the memory faded, Jason lifted his saddened stare from the steel table and into the emerald eyes of Calleigh Duquesne. He swallowed thickly, needing to finish his story.<p>

"It started as tutoring...then hanging out...then it changed. I wanted to be more than his best friend...and so did he."

The silence in the interrogation room seemed to stretch on for eternity. Calleigh tried to think of something to say but was too stunned.

_Natalia said Jason claimed to love Chris,_ she remembered, _but I never thought it was this much...this real._

Reclaiming her composure, Calleigh cleared her throat softly. "So the threat letter that was sent to Chris...it was about you two being a couple?"

Jason nodded, guilt and regret etching deeply into his pale features. "People couldn't know about us...it would have ruined his career."

Biting his lip, he continued sadly. "I hated it...being his secret, and he hated it too but there was nothing we can do. And then when he got that note, he was scared. Scared someone was after us."

Calleigh quickly interrupted. "Is that why you and Chris were arguing at the concert?"

Again, Jason nodded, saddened by the memory. "He didn't want me there in case I was in danger...but I couldn't let him face them alone...but I failed..."

Watching the teen hang his head, Calleigh felt her heart go out to him. "Jason," she waited for him to look up, seeing the misery in his deep brown eyes.

"Jason...there's nothing you could have done-"

Swiftly, Jason slammed a clenched fist down on the steel table, attracting the stern gaze of many MDPD officers outside. Calleigh quickly signalled for no one to enter.

"You're wrong," the teen growled, "There was! And I tried! But-but that fight! Everyone was fighting! I was trying to get to Chris and he was trying to get to me! He was gonna jump into a riot for me, his manager had to hold him back!"

Shaking his head with a scoff, Jason looked up with pure confusion in his eyes. "I mean, who does that?"

Calleigh was quiet for a moment, thinking of someone – to her - who fit that description perfectly. She leaned forward, resting her arms on the table and softly locking eyes with Jason.

"Someone in love, Jason. Chris obviously cares for you."

Jason smiled watery, silently thanking the Southern CSI. "You'll find whoever did this, right?"

Calleigh nodded on instinct. "We will."

Jason looked into her eyes, letting her see his desperateness and vulnerability. Showing how much her word meant to him.

"You promise?"

After a silent moment, Calleigh nodded again, slowly and sincerely.

"I promise."

* * *

><p><strong>Wow, a rather lengthy chapter, but since I haven't been updating regularly, I thought you all wouldn't mind ;)<strong>

**I also hope you also enjoyed the hint at E/C as well ;)**

**We're about half-way finished now, the case will be wrapping up too as will the small personal storylines as well.**

**Again, thank you all for your kind support and understanding. It truly means a lot to me :) **

**- Mel out ;D**

**Also, on a side note, as an Irish citizen I was proud to be present at President Obama's speech in Dublin today. Only home from it now and may I say he is an excellent leader. (He shook my hand! :D) **


	13. Chapter 13

**Backstabbers: Chapter 13**

**Disclaimer: **I might wish it but...CSI: Miami will never be mine :( Nor do I profit from CBS or from this story. _Backstabbers_is purely for your entertainment purposes so...enjoy :D

* * *

><p>Hanging her head tiredly while leaning against the glass lab bench, Natalia Boa Vista let her eyelids droop slightly – taking a quiet moment while waiting for the blood-test results.<p>

_5 more hours of shift...just 5 more..._

Listening to the rhythmic fan of the centrifuge and occasional beeping lab equipment, Natalia looked up slowly at the sound of swinging glass and clapping of converse soles.

"Hey," Ryan greeted softly, seeing the stress and exhaustion across Natalia's features. "How'd it go with IA?" He inquired carefully, folding his arms across his chest.

Natalia sighed heavily, glancing downwards. "They cleared me, said I did the right thing..."

Frowning slightly, Ryan tilted his head. "You feeling alright?"

Looking up, Natalia shook herself mentally, smiling slightly. "Maybe...I think a little mojito remedy might help though."

Ryan smirked, glad to see her returning to her old-self. "I'm down for that."

Whilst the DNA lab was filled with breath-like chuckles from both CSIs, Ryan remembered the real reason he had wanted to see Natalia.

"Hey, Calleigh says you found an 'interesting' blood sample on the vic's shirt."

Natalia nodded, "Yep, no hit in CODIS so I'm checking it against the samples given by anyone questioned so far."

Slowly, both eyebrows rose over quizzical hazel eyes, "Eh, Nat?"

"Yeah?"

"Chris was stabbed..." he nodded his head to the crimson coated shirt. "I think he'd get pretty bloody getting stabbed." Ryan continued.

Natalia smirked, loving it when her methods confused people and made them doubtful.

"On his back, sure. But a smear on his right shoulder? Not so much."

Ryan looked back to the shirt. His eyes widened after seeing the thick yet short line of red on the navy-blue material.

"A smear?" he wondered aloud, "From the attacker holding him?"

Again Natalia nodded, her grin growing with satisfaction. "Uh-huh. Maybe we'll get lucky and they cut themselves during the attack."

The beeping of the centrifuge was overshadowed by Ryan's chuckling. "Oooh, lucky."

Rolling her eyes at his antics, Natalia typed into the computer, waiting for the results to show. When they revealed a different owner than Chris Banks, she couldn't help but hide the victorious grin.

_Damn straight!_

"And our not-so-lucky knifer is...Jenny Watkins."

Ryan's eyes narrowed as Natalia turned the screen to him, portraying a student ID photo of a young college student with long, blond hair, brown eyes and a timid smile.

He recognised her.

"I talked to her at the scene," Ryan looked to Natalia, seeing the curiosity in her eyes. "She was covered in blood, but they were scratches. She said she cut her arm and was pushed around when everyone ran for Chris."

Ryan felt like a fool. _Did I let our suspect escape 'cause I felt sorry for her?_

Natalia raised an eyebrow, "Looks like she's the one who got too close for comfort."

Ryan nodded, pulled from his thoughts. "Too close to be innocent," he countered, pulling out his cell. "I'll give H a call, nice break."

Finding the Lieutenant's number in his contacts, Ryan waved goodbye to Natalia and exited the lab, determent not to let the suspect escape again.

* * *

><p><em>This can't be good...<em>

Swallowing thickly, 19-year old Jenifer Watkins looked between the red-haired Lieutenant and filmier hazel-eyed officer, watching their conversation muffled by a sheet of thick glass.

_Is that why he got that cop to drop me home? _She wondered, _so he could drag me down here and leave me in a glass box?_

The fluid motion of the transparent door caught Jenifer's eye, her head snapping up to meet the officers' intense gazes.

"What's going on here?" she questioned, "Why am I here? I already told that other guy everything."

Removing his shades and meeting the young woman's stare, Horatio sighed. "You haven't told us what we want, Ms. Watkins."

Brow lowering, Jenifer glanced between the two men, un-sure of how to answer. "What do you mean...?"

Sighing heavily, Ryan stepped forward, placing a file down on the steel desk. "The truth, Jenny. You lied to me."

Watching carefully, Horatio didn't find any guilt in the brown eyes of the teen, but widened shock.

"Wait-what do you mean?"

Not in the mood for games, Ryan quickly flicked the file open, finding a photo of Chris' blood-stained shirt. A smaller photo zoomed in on the crimson smear present on the right shoulder.

He then pulled out another page and slid it towards her, the DNA confirmation that the blood was hers.

"You told me those cuts came from an accident, Jenny." Ryan stated lowly.

Blond hair shook vigorously, "I did. It did! _They_ did!"

Ryan frowned deeply, brow burrowing over fiercely interrogating, hazel eyes. "Really? Cause I'm thinking it happened when you stabbed Chris and left him for dead in that alleyway!"

Holding her hands up defensively, Jenifer tried to recover from her shock, but still stuttered slightly.

"Woah-woah-woah...You're saying I _stabbed_ Chris? Chris _Banks_? Eh, hello! I already told you, I was bleeding all over the place at that concert! Maybe the _real guy_ touched something I bled on? I saw it on _Cops_ – a transfer or something."

Ryan smirked coldly, _Nice try. _"The blood was _smeared_ onto Chris; it's not likely that an attacker would stab Chris with blood already on their hands. They wouldn't want to leave a trace of themselves...you know, like how they do on "_Cops_"."

Stepping in before the interview could become too heated; Horatio gave the young girl the benefit of the doubt.

"Who helped you out of the crowd, Ms. Watkins?" Was it one of the guards?"

The Lieutenant still couldn't squash his suspicions of Gerry Cole, Chris' security guard.

Jennifer shook her head, trying to remember back to the concert. "It's a bit fuzzy but...No...It was a girl, she helped me into the bathroom. She had...Brown hair, I think...And-and a backstage pass."

Ryan and Horatio shared a frown; Chris had a lot of crew members working for him; many of which were blond women.

"Anything else?" Ryan pressed.

Again, Jennifer shook her head sadly. "No...that's where it gets blurry. I passed out and when I woke up...she was gone."

Both CSI and Lieutenant sighed, they'd hit another dead end.

"...And this towel was wrapped around my arm." Jennifer finished, reaching into her handbag and pulling out a white, fluffy towel stained with blood.

Suddenly glad he had brought his kit, Ryan opened the steel box to produce a evidence bag. Using a glove, he took the towel up from the table and carefully placed it within the brown envelope.

"I'll get this to Trace." He informed Horatio before leaving silently. After watching Ryan leave, Jennifer looked to the Lieutenant pleadingly.

"I didn't do this, I'd never hurt _anybody_, I swear!"

Sighing silently, Horatio turned his gaze to the floor, deep in thought. After a quick moment, he looked up and locked eyes with the young women, showing sincerity in his ice blue eyes.

"I know, now let's hope the evidence says the same."

* * *

><p><strong>Hmmmm, any suspects guys? Is Ryan right to question Jenny? Are Horatio's suspicions of the Bodyguard correct? What do you think?<strong>

**Any Wolfe-Packers (from TalkCSI) may recognise the shoes Ryan wears ;) I told you all it was a small detail but every detail matters (at least to me ;)**

**For those who don't know, the Wolfe-Pack is a group of the most dedicated Ryan-fans ever who seem to have a photo of Ryan for everything (even his shoes ;) Thanks guys! XD**

**And because they hasn't popped up in awhile – Walter and Eric star next chapter ;)**

**-Mel out ;D**


	14. Chapter 14

**Backstabbers: Chapter 14**

**Disclaimer: **Never have own nor profited from my Fanfiction, which includes this story. I write for personal expression and your entertainment only. ;)

_**A/N1#**_**: **Second last chapter guys! :( It's been a long but pleasurable journey and I'm glad to have shared it with you. Thank you everyone who's read, reviewed, alerted or favourite'd this fic – it's been an honour to write for you all :)

_**A/N2#: **__A microscope's 'stage' is where the slide is placed – just in case you didn't understand the reference below ;)_

* * *

><p>Black eyes narrowed with an intense gaze, focused on the target. Lips growing into an impish grin, the satisfaction spread quickly over his dark features.<p>

_Now I've gotcha!_

Careful not to damage the evidential towel, Walter pulled at the mysterious substance until it rested safely between the pliers in his hand. "That's right," He taunted the crystal-like material.

"No-one can escape Walter's eye. Walter's got hawk-eyes, eye of the tiger baby." He breathed with a chuckle, placing the substance onto a slide.

A softer, lighter chuckle reached him from the doorway. Looking over his shoulder, Walter smiled before nodding to Natalia, turning back to the slide as she approached.

"Hey, BV." He greeted while setting the slide down onto the microscope stage, adjusting the focus, he stared intently through the lens.

"Hey," Natalia smiled, standing opposite the table to him. "Talking to the evidence, huh?"

Walter glanced up with a smirk, ready to challenge her joking. "Beats arguing with the centrifuge."

Joining him in his chuckles, Natalia raised her hands in defeat. "I'll admit that, but that lil thing's been fighting me all day."

Without looking up, Walter sighed. "So I take it you didn't find anything from the blood off the towel then?"

Frowning, Natalia shook her head. "Nothing. Eric couldn't pull a print either. Any luck in here?"

Regaining his proud grin, Walter removed his gloves with a snap. "Hmmm, let the newbie work some magic here and we'll see." He began adjusting the focus again, concentrating on the evidence.

"Don't forget to use the eye of the tiger, newbie." Natalia whispered playfully.

"Very funny, oldie." He retorted dryly. After looking up, he chuckled, seeing the raised brow glare that met him.

"Excuse me, but aren't you only 3 years younger?" she questioned lightly.

Rolling his eyes, he sighed "Yeah, to be honest I wouldn't have known it if Wolfe hadn't of told me." He admitted, returning to the microscope.

Clicking her tongue loud enough for him to hear, the big CSI noticed Natalia smirking. "Nice save."

"I had to; those heels you're digging look dangerous." He said mischievously, earning another smirk. Glancing down at her own footwear, Natalia was impressed.

"You really do got the eye of the tiger, huh?"

Standing up straight, Walter frowned. "Maybe, but the mind of the sloth." His grimace deepened in thought.

"This doesn't make sense." He whispered to himself.

Natalia watched him inquisitively, "What doesn't?"

"This," He said, taking out the slide and holding it up. "It looks like the hair gel from Chris' wounds, from his buddy Andy Mason...I can run it but that's twice this kid's tied to the evidence."

"I doubt it's a coincidence." Natalia breathed, watching as Walter placed the slide down and took out his cell.

"I'll call H." He stated. However, before he could call the Lieutenant, Natalia held a hand out, cutting him off.

"Wait a sec," she told him, deep in thought. "The gel was found on Chris and on the towel?"

"Yeah?" Walter waited for her to finish her theory, un-sure what she was thinking.

"So," Natalia continued. "That would suggest that the attacker helped Jenny into the bathroom right before the attack, right?"

Walter nodded, though his confusion only grew. "Wait, I thought you said it wasn't the best friend-"

"No no, I am saying that," Natalia interrupted lightly, "A _guy_ couldn't have helped Jenny into the _girl's _bathrooms and according to her it was a blond _female_."

Walter waited in silence, still oblivious to her speculation. Sighing, Natalia continued.

"And who do we know had their hands all over Andy right before the concert?" She hinted, smiling when the realisation dawned across Walter's features.

"The best friend's girl friend."

She smirked, "Bingo."

Re-dialling Horatio's number, Walter turned to Natalia, wearing a humoured smirk.

"This sounds like a bad episode of _'All My Children'_." He commented with a low chuckle.

Nodding while she rolled her eyes, Natalia grinned.

"Tell me about it."

* * *

><p>Flashy pink-painted nails tapped impatiently across the glass table, an un-even dance that grew faster every minute. Blinking quickly under heavily mascara-coated eyelashes, dark blue eyes darted around the room.<p>

Smirking outside, Eric Delko knew their suspect was sweating in the hot seat. Waiting only a minute longer he entered, Horatio following closely. Tossing the file down on the table as he sat, he stared straight into the 17 year-old's eyes.

Squirming under the stare, Cynthia Reese snapped, glaring at the officer.

"What?"

Eric left a pause before answering her, his voice holding disgust. "I've looked into murderer's eyes before and you know what...they all look the same."

Standing close-by, Horatio wore cold demeanour, watching the girl recover from the accusation.

"Woah! What did you call me?"

"You heard me." Eric growled out, shaking his head. Flicking open the file, he began searching for the right page.

"You know, you were pretty clever Cynthia." He commented lowly, earning another glare. "Finding out about Chris and Jason, using that to blackmail Chris for money, it was all well thought out."

"Except when he wouldn't pay up." Horatio finished, leaving a heavy silence in the glass interrogation room.

Holding up a manicured hand, Cynthia looked between both officers, feeling cornered.

"I didn't do _that_. Some thug grabbed Chris, not me." She scoffed, "No way you've proof that I did anything."

Eric chuckled, "Your right, a thug did attack Chris. Stole his prized guitar and pawned it off on Ebay."

Looking on as his brother-in-law took out a record of transaction and placed it in front of Cynthia, Horatio stepped in, equally cold-blue eyes clashing with hers.

"The only thing you forgot, is that by selling that guitar online, Cynthia...is that it led us back to you."

Swallowing thickly, Cynthia knew panic was printed right across her tanned features. "So-so-so Chris gave me the guitar to put up online, just to see how much it was worth. Doesn't mean I stabbed him."

Chuckling deeply at her attempt at brushing-off the allegation, Eric pulled out another sheet from the file. "How about this, Cynthia?" he challenged, tossing the page to her.

"What the hell is all this?" she asked, not understanding what the small, blue crystal-like flakes meant to her.

"That is hair gel from your boyfriend, Andy Mason." Eric told her, his tone growing aggressive. "Hair gel that we found in Chris' knife wounds."

Brow burrowing, Cynthia glared at him. "Then why isn't Andy in here?"

"Because," Horatio explained, "Andy has an alibi...you."

Glossy lips fell into a frown. "Me?"

Eric nodded, "Andy said you two hooked up at the concert, then you left quickly. Andy is seen on the security footage at the time of the attack-"

"While you are not, Ms. Reese." Horatio finished, tilting his head as he watched her reaction.

"But if it was Andy's hair gel then why am _I _here?"

Eric smirked darkly, "Because, after the..._contact_...Andy's hair gel was caught under _your_ fingernails. When you stabbed Chris, it transferred from your hand, to the knife, to him."

Breathing heavily, Cynthia began tapping her high-heel strapped foot against the floor. "Oh yeah? Well prove it!"

Horatio smirked at her while Eric pulled his kit up from under the table. "Oh we can." The Lieutenant warned.

"You see this?" Eric asked her, holding up a bottle of Luminol. "No matter how hard you wash your hands, this will show us the blood."

Rising from his chair, Eric hadn't even stepped around the table before Cynthia panicked.

"Don't do it okay! I did it, I did it!" she rasped out, eyes growing teary. "Chris, he-he always said he'd take care of his friends. 'Bank on that' he said. But then he started to break away from Andy, spending all his time with his little boyfriend!"

Horatio and Eric remained quiet, listening to her breakdown with bitter facial expressions.

"Me and Andy were getting thrown to the gutter. Without Chris, Andy had nothing! _I_ had nothing! I found those two one night and got a pic. All I wanted was the money, I didn't want to hurt Chris but he made me _do it_!"

Eric frowned bitterly, "All of this was for money?" he questioned with disgust. Cynthia didn't seem to have noticed him speak, lost in her confession.

"All that money..." she breathed softly, as though in regret. "Chris was raking it in but he didn't care – he just kept living so..._averagely_."

Being escorted from the room by an officer, Cynthia looked back at the CSI and Lieutenant, teary eyes filled with question.

"Why become a famous musician if he didn't want the money?" she asked, looking to Horatio. A heavy silence fell over the interrogation room.

"It's called...a passion." He drawled, watching as the teenager was led away to the holding cells.

Letting out a long breath, Eric stood behind the Lieutenant, brow burrowed in anger. "We don't get paid enough to deal with brats like that." He growled out, closing up his kit.

Hands resting on his hips, Horatio watched as Cynthia passed Jason in handcuffs, Natalia by the injured teen's side to guide him away and comfort him.

"I know Eric, that's why it is _our _passion."

* * *

><p><strong>So there you go guys, case solved! ;) I hope the ending wasn't a let-down to you all, money can cause people to do some crazy things (as can love)<strong>

**Though the case is solved there still is one more chapter – it's a nice one ;) A happy ending if you will ;)**

**So stay tuned guys! XD**

**-Mel out ;D**


	15. Chapter 15

**Backstabbers: Chapter 15**

**Disclaimer: **I do not profit or claim possession of CSI Miami or CBS. Never have (can only dream that someday I will ;)

**A/N#1: **This scene is set a month after the previous chapter, on a team night out. (Remember the bar at the end of 'Hostile Takeover' – its set there ;)

**A/N#2: **_Another fic comes to end :( I must say, receiving reviews is great_, _but the interest and support you have all shown me is above and beyond! I'd like to take this opportunity to thank EVERYONE connected to this story, whether through reading, reviewing, alerting or favourite-ing. It truly has been a pleasure._

_Please enjoy ;)_

* * *

><p>"Who ordered the mjoitos?"<p>

"Right here," Ryan waved to the waiter, thanking him as he set his and Natalia's drinks down on the table. Hastily, he took a large swig, sweating in his suit jacket.

Over his loud, rhythmic gulping, he heard the laughter of his team.

"Someone's thirsty." Eric commented with a chuckle, taking a mouthful of his stout. By his side, Calleigh smirked, stirring her cocktail with a tiny umbrella. Next to her Walter appeared. He struggled to swallow his gin and tonic, pointing his hand to the group excitedly whilst trying to speak.

"Spit it out Walter," Ryan told him, brow burrowing after he spoke. "Not your drink!" he finished.

Swallowing thickly, Walter spoke in a rush. "Hey guys, that kid, Chris Banks is on the TV in the bar! Come on, you gotta see this!"

Following the big CSI off the patio and into the main building, the off-duty team gathered by the doorway, unable to hear what the new reporter was saying over the busy crowds inside.

On a surrounded stage, Chris Banks stood, holding a microphone underneath a bright, cheerful smile. Natalia smiled lightly to herself after noticing Jason in the background, watching Chris speak with pride.

_They're both okay and have worked things out..._

She couldn't think of a happier ending for the couple.

"Chris' recovery seems to be going well." Walter commented, earning an equally pleased nod from Eric, Calleigh and Natalia.

"Aw man, are you gonna go back to listening to him in the Hummer now?" Ryan sighed. Walter turned to the shorter brunette, glaring down at him and the other chuckling CSIs.

"Do you wanna settle this _little boy_?" Walter stepped closer to Ryan, adding emphasis to their height difference. Cocking his head and smirking, Ryan stood his ground.

"Bring it on _big boy_." He counted, tensing up jokingly. Over the team's low chuckles, Eric laughed loudly.

"What's so funny Delko?" Ryan questioned. Having to put his drink down, Eric turned back to his colleague, still smirking.

"You're looking _really_ tough holding that fruit punch Wolfe." He said dryly.

Glancing down to his drink, Ryan frowned. "Hey, what's wrong with my drink?" By his side, Natalia gave Eric a quizzical look, taking a sip of her mojito.

The Cuban CSI smirked, "Nothing wrong if a woman drinks it."

One brow rose over stunned hazel eyes, "You calling me a girl Delko?"

"Maybe I am Wolfe." Eric countered, a silent stand-off following his words. Placing his glass down, Ryan turned back to the group, holding a hand up challengingly to the grinning Cuban.

"I think this calls for a drinking game." He announced lowly, a mischievous smirk spreading across his features. Both Walter and Natalia cringed, Calleigh shaking her head next to Eric.

"Cause those always go well." She commented, Eric chuckled deeply, "Not for Wolfe they don't."

Over the rounds of laughs from the team, Ryan spoke. "Excuse me Delko but who's the one always holding you over the toilet?"

Walter snorted over his drink, "At least he makes it to the toilet."

Natalia smirked surprisingly at the big CSI, humour swimming in her dark gaze. "Hold on, I remember a certain _somebody_ puking in my kitchen sink on New Year's...and then apologising to it."

"I'm surprised you remember that night at all." Ryan mentioned, grinning sheepishly. He chuckled after receiving an elbow to the ribs for his comment.

"And can you really talk 'bout conversations with inanimate objects?" Walter counted, cocking an eyebrow questioningly.

Natalia frowned, "Are we talking about the centrifuge _again_?"

Calleigh nodded, "Oh yeah, I heard you two had a falling out, everything okay?"

Taking a sip of her drink while chuckling, Natalia spoke after swallowing. "Yeah, stupid thing kept jamming on me and cutting out; I was close to tossing it."

Walter smirked down at her impishly. "Hey BV, remember we're in a _glass _lab."

Natalia turned to him challengingly, "I remember, _newbie_."

"Newbie?" Ryan questioned, not understanding the cheeky smirk shared between his two friends.

"Private joke." Walter explained, "Right BV?"

"Right," Natalia answered, taking a sip of her drink. "By the way," she swallowed. "_Why_ were you and Walter talking about my age?"

Blushing slightly, though he hoped it went un-noticed, Ryan turned to face Eric. "Hey Delko how bout we get this game underway, huh?" he asked with a pleading look.

Eric smirked knowingly, "You're on Wolfie."

"Wolfie?" Calleigh and Natalia asked together. Walter smirked while approaching the bar, ordering two shot glasses, tequila, two lemons and salt.

_This is going to be good, _he thought, rubbing his hands together eagerly.

Rubbing the back of his neck, Ryan smirked, glaring at Eric for throwing him back into the spotlight.

"It's a long story..."

* * *

><p>"Yo, yo bartender, we're gonna need some shots and a mop out on deck!"<p>

Having heard Walter's booming voice from the doorway, the two suited officers looked to each other, smirking slightly.

"Guess they started the party without us." Frank said gruffly, taking off his jacket. Horatio chuckled lowly, removing his shades and jacket as well.

"Well we did take a detour Frank." He retorted, reminding his grumpy partner of their day's case.

"Oh yeah, well for all that running I did today, I deserve a cold beer." Frank huffed, leading the way to the bar. While he ordered, Horatio greeted his slightly drunk CSI.

"Walter, it's good to see you."

Smiling cheerfully, the big CSI picked up the two bottles of tequila in one hand, using the other to handle a shaker of salt, two lemons and two shot glasses. "Hey H!" he exclaimed, swaying on his feet.

"You gotta see this H! Delko vs. Wolfe! Ultimate showdown out on the deck!"

Horatio chuckled lowly, looking out to his team, all beaconing for him and Frank to join them. "I'm sure it Walter." The red-haired Lieutenant leaned against the bar, letting the team know that he'd be out soon.

Nodding, the big CSI made his way outside, pouring out the tequila for Eric and Ryan. Moments later, the sounds of bitter gasps and amused cheering filled the balcony.

"They're gonna be wasted by sunset." Frank commented lowly, snorting with laughter over his drink. Horatio chuckled, pulling the pint that Frank ordered for him. Still smiling he took a slow drink, savouring the taste and his company.

It wasn't unusual for team could have a night out together, though normally their Lieutenant would stay behind and work. On those rare occurrences, Horatio would sit back and watch the banter and fun, cherishing the memories being made.

Surrounded by blood and evil on a daily basis, Horatio Caine relished in moments like them, watching and hearing his family's laughter and smiles.

"Come on man, you're gonna cost me twenty bucks!" Walter complaint was lost in the cheers from Natalia and Calleigh. Although Eric was in the lead, Ryan was catching up – due to most of his drink being spluttered out onto the deck.

Frank chuckled, taking another swig of his drink. "Wimps." Swallowing thickly, he turned to look at the Lieutenant. "Should we go show them how it's done?"

Horatio smirked, "Sounds like a plan partner." He led the way out to the deck. Once the team noticed the duo approaching, there was another uproar of cheering and clapping.

The red-haired Lieutenant smiled, taking a shot and holding it up. One by one, the CSIs followed suit, each watching their leader take in the enjoyable atmosphere with a sense of gratitude.

"To family." Horatio toasted softly, earning a round of smiles. Together, six glasses clinked loudly.

"To family!"

* * *

><p><strong>~ Fin<strong>

**Well, there we go. It was delayed greatly, but I hope that was a good ending for you all ;) I've always wanted a family moment like that on the show – and I do hope this chapter has done the story justice :)**

**I've a majorly different story planned next for CSI: Miami. An AU featuring RaiN, DuCaine and much drama and action ;) It'll defiantly be outside my comfort zone, but I hope the boldness pays off ;)**

**Well...till next time, thank you dear readers. And have a happy summer!**

**- Mel out (but not for long) ;D**


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